The Week “Zoom” Became a Verb…
In the past week, the world has a new “normal” every day. Remember how Google went from a noun to a verb? I think we can expect: this is Zoom’s week.
I am Zooming. I mean that in one sense literally, getting a lot of use out of the video chat site: I did yoga by Zoom yesterday for the first time, and have connected with clients and meetings and am reformatting a formerly live workshop to be on Zoom.
But here’s another way I am relating with the “zoom”: My brain is racing and zooming with lots of choices and not enough information.
I am “zooming” back and forth between lots of anxieties and some very real joys and delight at the moments of humor, leadership and lightness in all this. Here’s what the pinball machine of my brain is currently doing:
Anxiety: In addition to all the normal ones, about getting sick and passing on germs and financial ruin, I am wondering, how long can this body go without a friend hug or real-life eye contact before I lose it? So, I have fear about being really isolated.
Joy: Singing like no one can hear me – because, well, no one can. “I Will Survive” has been recently butchered by me. At full volume. Seems like a great time to share some of our Spotify playlists.
Anxiety: I know I don’t have food insecurity in any traditional sense of the word, because I can still afford to buy food. But I am learning what the wonder feels like. Do I have what I need? Will grocery stores continue to stock things? How do I be with that uncertainty and not hoard?
Joy: The creativity of outreach between friends, communities and tribes. I have spent A LOT of time on Zoom and FaceTime and the phone, just checking in. And it is raw and it is real. Connection is possible.
Anxiety: I am worrying that a parent or child or loved one will get sick out of state, and I won’t be able to go be with them. Or worse.
Joy (and gratitude): That I still have electricity for my freezer and my phone charger and my Zoom machine (aka, my computer) and internet. Those are things people lose in other natural disasters.
Joy: The image of my dad singing Happy Birthday to himself multiple times every day in the mirror as he washes his hands.
Stay safe. Sending love.