In Defence of the Bakers and the Little Joys

It’s been a month since the lockdown started in our part of the world. The signs in Canada are that we are making progress in some parts of the country, while others have not seen the worst of their outbreak yet. 

It’s a picture that it’s reflected at the personal, individual level as well. Everybody is at a different place in their processing of the pandemic, and it’s important to respect where everybody is at any specific time. That’s why social media can feel even more tonally fragmented than usual, the bakers sharing photos of their goods, the writers and musicians rightfully depressed over the outlook of their industries, the working at home parents discovering the hardships and joys of spending every minute of waking life with their kids, the outrage at the handling of the crisis by some leaders (you know who I’m referring to). 

Trying to Make Sense of the World During a Pandemic

The moment of the day when the reality of the situation continues to hit the hardest is the minute before I wake up.

Sometimes it’s in the middle of the night, sometimes at 5:00 am just before the alarm goes off. I go to bed thinking about coronavirus, and I wake up thinking about it. I’m sure it’s the norm right now for everybody. Our collective dreams must be made of this new reality.

A Healing Mind, a Healing Heart

I once wrote, without really believing it, that perhaps laughter is finite. I was once the chubby kid who danced in the middle of the kitchen to make her parents laugh. But I had forgotten what deep, carefree laughter sounded like, and for a while, it really felt I had used mine all up.

Secretly laughing in a bathroom stall

Crying in a bathroom stall. Who hasn’t done it? I have, so many times. In the darkest days, when I wished I was anywhere but sitting on my desk at work. Like the time I felt so sick from the stress I thought I was going to die. Like the days when getting out of bed took all my strength and will power, but I still made it to work, all dressed for success. Or the day when I got to the office, set the coffee pot, and felt the most profound, infinite hopelessness, that tears ran down my face as the coffeemaker purred and puffed quietly in the empty lunch room.