Moments in the Midst of the Nightmare

I was driving to get food today. This was after almost an hour of a walk/run combo with a little workout thrown in after just to feel productive like the olden days (about a month ago, now). So I decided to get some food after to celebrate and completely negate all the “hard” work I just put myself through.

As I was driving towards my destination, I turned on a song I liked. I rolled down my windows to let the sunshine hit me and the allergen-laden air attempt to attack me. I sang along with the music as I made turns and stopped at traffic lights. Once I arrived at my destination, I slowed down to place my order and that’s when I realized something:

I was in a good mood. I was happy. And, even more, I almost completely forgot I was living in the middle of a global pandemic.

I say almost because between looking for my hand sanitzer as soon as I get into my car and seeing drive-thru employees ask for my debit card behind newly installed window shields and face masks, it’s hard to leave your house and forget completely that the outside world has indeed changed; forever, even.

But I’m thankful for that moment of happiness. That tiny sliver of gladness where I didn’t have to think about the virus for a while. Where I wasn’t constantly thinking of everything I had last touched or when was the last time I had washed my hands. When I didn’t have think of every sneeze, or cough, or wheeze as either allergies or the beginning of the end.

It was nice to find some good moments in the midst of the nightmare that is this world at the moment.

Finding the “new normal” can be good and is needed; but I also fear it. Talking with a friend who asked how I was doing I told him, “Im doing ok today. I think im adjusting to the new normal. And Im thankful for that but it also scares me a little”

I called adjusting to the new normal a scary thing because although I’m thankful that it helps me to cope, I don’t want to think this new way of life should be normal; because it shouldn’t. I don’t want to get used to zoom calls instead of bar nights, in-person with my friends. I don’t want to get used to online workouts versus meeting my friends in dance class. I don’t want to get used to seeing my favorite artist on Instagram Live versus getting to see them actually live in concert. Although all of these new mediums of communication and entertainment are graces I’m thankful for, they aren’t the real thing. So while I want to be thankful for them, I don’t want to get used to them.

I also know my defintion of normal is from a place of privilege. Even though things are not great, things are not bad for me. I am healthy (that I know of), I’m not working but still have provision and provisions, and I have friends that are happy to chat with and check on me. I know that everyone does not have those things. Some have more but I know a lot have much less. So what I call normal these days doesn’t look like everyone else’s. And even what I call normal now is so far what normal used to be.

So instead, I think my life now is measured more in moments than long spans of time. When the days seem chained together in a cascade of sameness, its hard enough to differentiate between Monday and Thursday, let alone having to remember how your day was yesterday. So when I’m asked how I am doing, I respond with how I am doing in that moment. Because I know that moment may last into the next 24 hours or only into the next 24 minutes — the time it takes to pick up food and get back your apartment — and so waiting for the definitive answer to “how are you doing?” is the same as playing the roulette wheel at the moment.

And still, I hope everyone gets to experience good moments right now. I hope all of us get — if for a split second — to experience moments that allow us to forget that we are in a crisis. Moments where we laugh, where you break a new record, where we have good conversations, where we reach new heights in our relationship with God, where we create art, where we experience a moment with a type of peace that surpasses the fear, anxiety, sadness, anger and panic that this moment of chaos we are living in tempts us to feel often and daily.

And I want us all to get adjusted, but never get fully used to. I want us all to be thankful for the ways we have been able to cope while also remembering that coping is temporary behavior for temporary moments.

Nightmares are both scary and troubling; but they are also as temporary as the sleep that allows them. And even in the midst of the scary and the trouble, there are moments of good and hope. I pray you get those moments.