Who’s Got the Manual?
It’s been a rough stretch for all of us. Some have clearly suffered more than others, and I’ve mostly been spared the worst. I was privileged to be isolated, even if I complained about my isolation. Out of the now-600,000 Americans who died of COVID, none were my immediate family members.
And, now, it seems like a time to look forward. We’re wondering what it means to emerge from isolation. We’ve said we want to “get back to normal” even though we also say we want a fresh start, a new beginning — not just going back to what was. We want to go forward to…uh, well, we want to go forward.
The problem is, we don’t know where we’re going.
The future is not as clear as the past. We’ve edged into summer where I live in Southern California. The flowers are exquisite and last night’s sunset was incredible. It’s beautiful, yes, but the headlines are all about drought, the certainty of energy failures and blazing forests, and the next round of heat waves roasting every living thing that ventures into the sunlight.
Biden and Harris are in office and, despite zany behaviors in over-cooked Arizona, most of the insanity of Washington DC seems to have cooled. The Republicans are showing the maturity of a two-year-old who knows one word: “No!” So, yes, calm has arrived, but so has deadlock.
Yes, the worst of the pandemic is apparently past. Communities — whole states! — are opening up. Yes, I see that; but thousands of Americans and millions around the globe are still drawing their last breath.
Yes, we can go out to a favorite restaurant. But while there, we’re looking over our shoulders and wondering who among our mask-less fellow-diners have been vaccinated.
Yes, we poured billions into keeping businesses alive, but the boarded up storefronts are mute testimonies to collapse.
I remember holding my first child, Max. I adored him, and I adored being a mother. But I didn’t know what I was doing. Yes, I knew that the secret was found in loving him, but how? I was living in a yes-but world, half-informed and half-ignorant. When I asked “Where’s the instruction manual?” it turned out there wasn’t one. Which is pretty much how I’m feeling these days. Someone needs to bring out the instruction manual because we don’t know what we’re doing.
From where I stand, the future is both glorious and dangerous, our choices can be heroic or cowardly, our behaviors may be wholly changed or mere reversions to old habits. We’re living in a yes-but time loaded with uncertainty and it appears that there’s no instruction manual.
But…may I just say that maybe there is? Maybe the post-pandemic directions that will give us a foothold in this strange new world are the same directions we heard pre-pandemic.
Here’s a dozen suggestions from long ago that might fit today, or even tomorrow: Feed the hungry. Clothe the naked. Welcome the immigrant. Adopt the orphan. Rescue the abused. Care for the sick. Comfort the grieving. Do good deeds. Tell the truth. Give generously. Try humility. Love your neighbor.
When the details of decision making become very complex, and the future into which we’re inevitably leaning seems utterly confused, perhaps the set of instructions we need is neither new nor surprising. Maybe the rules I need to follow now are the rules I should have followed before.
I’ve always loved Charles Schulz’s “Peanuts” cartoons. I was remembering this week his sketch of Charlie Brown sitting on a dock with Snoopy, gazing out toward the distant horizon. “One day, we will die, Snoopy,” says Charlie. And Snoopy, in his infinite canine wisdom, responds, “Yes, but every other day we will live.”
So today is a day to live, even in a yes-but world, because — as it seems to be turning out — the rules may not have changed.
