Distance and Growth
With kids out of school indefinitely, parents have been scrambling to sort out childcare (most are closed), digital schooling (most of it is overwhelming), and schedules (most have been thrown out the window). In my community, people seem to be walking around under an umbrella of anxiety, fear, and uncertainty. We don’t really know what to do with ourselves, or for how long this altered ‘normal’ is going to last.
I have some iris plants that have seemed to be just fine, strong and green, for the last four years. I had them jammed into two planters and pretty much let the rain and sun take care of them as I focused on my family and my work. In a rare moment of sunshine this week when the seemingly nonstop rain finally took a break, those iris plants were dug up. Their roots were jostled and loosened. Old dirt was shaken off as the plants got divided up. I split them up, gave them new soil, and didn’t expect much: I was just pleased to have a few more containers of green things outside my window, and something to do that didn’t involve sorting out kids and school and scheduling.
Two days ago, I noticed something on one of the plants: A dark, swollen area had appeared on one of the green plant tips. Upon closer inspection, I realized this was a bud. The next day, I noticed another bud. And today, I can see more than one part of the plant blossoming, growing into its own particular shade of purple. After four years of green, non-blooming status quo, y’all.
Allow me to be a little romantic and heavy-handed with my musings here: I’m seeing similar growth in the community. Two weeks ago, if people were out and about they rarely acknowledged each other, too busy going about their day. Two weeks ago, it was rare to see neighbors taking a walk, or families going on a bike ride. Now, even with a whole week of rainy weather, neighbors are out. Families are walking and biking together. People are shouting hello across the street to each other. Strangers are exchanging sympathetic smiles at the grocery store.
We could blame it on cabin fever. We could say we’re all getting desperate for activity and company outside of our homes. I’m sure there’s plenty of that going around. This is a time of slowing down, prioritizing our errands, taking space. We’re finding different ways to connect with each other even though it is recommended that we physically keep our distance. We don’t know how the next several months will look, but I wonder if this can be a season of growth for us. Maybe we’ll get some breathing room from all the outside stimuli. If (when?) we are “all sheltering in place,” perhaps some of us will take the opportunity to learn something new, reflect a little more, shake off some of the unhealthy patterns (or even influences) that we’ve been rooted in. Maybe we will get more clarity on our values, and more connected in our relationships. Maybe we will bloom.
(Note: Not everyone has the privilege to even attempt to see the silver lining in this social distancing/shelter in place situation. There are too many children and adults for whom their home is NOT a sanctuary. Plenty of people will lose their jobs if they don’t go to work, but risk exposing even more people if they do. So many families already struggle financially, do not have the means to become homeschoolers, and many depend on schools to provide meals to their kids. Also, many people living in senior care facilities are now feeling isolated and alone because visitors are no longer allowed. If you’re able, look around your community for those who might need some support. And if you’re struggling with this situation, as most of us are, it is a great time to reach out for your own support. Online therapy is available.)