The news media has devoted itself in the last few weeks to extensive coverage of the virus now ravaging our country and our world. We know what we should do: stay at least 6 feet away from others, wash our hands, avoid touching our faces
When the media is not discussing the number of cases, predicting upticks in the numbers, and presenting frightening future scenarios, they turn their attention to the “financial pandemic” engulfing us. If we are fortunate and still have a monthly salary or a monthly retirement stipend, we know we should spend wisely. Somehow, the expenditures that seemed important a few weeks ago have paled in their significance. Food, supplies, mortgages, and utilities are crucial – new clothes, entertainment, vacations are not.
But in all the reporting and advice, one area has been ignored: managing isolation; finding joy in sheltering at home. These may be especially difficult for retirees who are shut off from families and friends. Being alone, or being confined with a spouse, can be challenging. Cabin fever, I believe, is a real threat – a “virus” of a different kind.
I have lived alone for 15 years, but have been dependent on social contact – meeting friends often for bridge and Mah Jong and lunch, attending family dinners and grandchildren’s basketball, baseball, and volleyball games, working alongside church friends to provide food for the homeless.
But now, in this time of isolation, I am beginning to suffer from this fever. I have several symptoms – but I have found a prescription to counter each of them. My hope is that these strategies will be useful of others who are struggling to deal with the isolation.
Symptom: Lethargy. Prescription: I create and keep a daily schedule , and I am certain to include physical activity in that schedule. I have turned the TV off, avoided naps, and gone for walks, either in parks (still acceptable under shelter at home orders) or in my neighborhood. Tackling – and finishing – long avoided chores can also be exhilarating, although another symptom (procrastination) has arisen as I have contemplated a list of tasks.
Symptom: Procrastination. Prescription: Make a beginning. I have learned to give myself 10 minutes to work on a chore; generally, I have found that beginning the work motivates me to continue it. If it is a truly ominous job, I will quit after 10 minutes, but will return to it at another time.
Symptom: Boredom. Prescription: Continual Learning. Again, I avoid watching TV and, instead, I utilize opportunities through technology. A friend of mine has described her nightly viewing of Rick Steves’ You Tube videos on traveling through Europe. She and her granddaughter, with whom she is sheltering, plan their “travel agendas” and visit a different country each evening. Following her lead, I have revisited Israel and am planning another visit to England.
Hillsdale College has college-level courses – for free – that are stimulating and compelling. Searching the Internet for other online courses, I have found and am enjoying a watercolor course.
I have downloaded audio or ebooks from my library; I have listened to three books while I have worked on other chores.
Symptom: Loneliness. Prescription: Email or phone contacts. I belong to a small group at my church, and we are receiving, each day, an email from the group leader, describing her daily activities and inviting us to share how we are staying busy. As we respond, we have a chain email, so that we know how each of us is spending this time. I have received unexpected phone calls, one from a friend who is confined to her room in a retirement home and another from a woman whom I know only casually – but she called to be certain I am ok. My cousin, who lives far away and whom I see irregularly, sent an email to be sure I am doing well. My daughter-in-law’s mother sent an e-card. I have been touched by their caring, and now have made it a priority, to get in touch with others who may be dealing with loneliness.
Symptom: Fear. Prescription #1: Valid information. I have found a news outlet to trust, but limit my cable news outlets, which seem to emphasize the horrendous numbers and the dire threat we face Instead, I tune in to local news, so that I am aware of what my mayor recommends and I have valid data about the threat here.
Prescription: Accounts of neighbors helping neighbors. I focus on the stories that show the compassion and empathy with which Americans have responded to this crisis. A friend of mine who was recently released from hospitalization has been inundated with food provided by his neighbors. I also read about a caravan of cars driving by the home of a cancer victim; the cars were decorated with encouraging signs, balloons, and honking horns. These are only two of many such stories.
Symptom: Despondency. Prescription: Gratitude. I am humbled by the fact that I am finding being alone a challenge. I need only compare myself to those who have lost loved ones or jobs to be ashamed of my despair. One of my ministers recommends keeping a gratitude journal. His suggestion: each day list 10 things for which you are grateful, and attempt the next day to list 10 different things – soon, the list of blessings will outweigh the list of complaints.
I am an optimist, and I am looking for the good that can come from this experience. I hope, as we return to normal, I will remember these lessons: emphasizing what is truly important, being kind to others, avoiding the traps of lethargy and despondency, and dwelling in a place of gratitude. And that is my hope as well for all who read this blog.
4/8/2020