Another Invisible & Potent Force
“Let’s be brave together this year in all of our pursuits–creative or otherwise. Being brave doesn’t mean we won’t feel fear, including the fear of failure. It simply means we’ll keep doing the work despite our fear.”
I didn’t have the novel Coronavirus in mind, of course, when I wrote those words near the end of my newsletter dated 1-20-20. Quarantine was still almost two months away here in Central Pennsylvania and in most other places. But the message certainly resonates in our current circumstances.
One thing that has made Coronavirus-related fear different from other fears is that we’ve all been experiencing it together.
Think about it–every person on the planet is affected by the same exact fear. We are all, truly, in it together.
Now, there’s no joy in that. I’m certainly not made happy knowing that you and someone half a world away are afraid of the same thing I am. But I think there’s some comfort to be found in this shared experience, even if it includes the shared experience of our susceptibility to the virus.
It’s been written that, “You have a deeper connection with people who you have shared experiences with and shared pain.” I know that’s true. I’ve seen it play out most profoundly among bereaved parents who meet one another for the first time — a deep connection forms instantly from the shared experience of their deep pain.
On a different level and in a different way, people around the world are connected by the shared experience of the Coronavirus.
One of the most touching experiences for me early on was watching a video of a teenage girl singing from the balcony of her family’s apartment in Northern Italy, at that time a Coronavirus hotspot, with very strict stay-at-home orders in place.
As this lovely girl with long, dark hair and a nervous smile sang, she was carried along by the applause and encouragement coming from neighbors on balconies above, below, and across from her. You could hear the girl’s mother in the background, both filming and cheering on her daughter.
I didn’t understand but a few words of Italian (apologies to my Italian grandmothers, may they rest in peace), and, yet, I understood it all. For love and hope are universal languages, and this young woman sang as if she were a Berlitz instructor. I hope she has since learned that her heartfelt performance that day was uplifting, not only for her neighbors, but for a global community as well.
Ridding the world of Coronavirus may, however, prove easier than maintaining a sense of global, or even national, goodwill.
In a recent article titled, “What Kind of Country Do We Want?” (New York Review of Books, Volume LXVII, Number 10, p. 43), celebrated author Marilynne Robinson writes: “The novel coronavirus has the potential for mitigation, treatment, and ultimately prevention. But a decline in hope and purpose is a crisis of civilization requiring reflection and generous care for the good of the whole society and its place in the world. We have been given the grounds and opportunity to do some very basic thinking.”
In the spirit of Ms. Robinson’s suggestion of “basic thinking,” I’d like to offer the following basic thought: If an invisible virus can affect the lives of everyone in the world, why can’t we all be struck by another invisible and potent force … that of love.
In remembrance of all those who have fallen victim to COVID-19, let’s make love the next contagion.
(Photo credit: Manuel Peris Tirado on Unsplash)
(PS — If you’re not already subscribed to my newsletter, I’d be honored to have you as a reader. Please submit the form above.)
