I find myself swirling down the rabbit hole of obsessive thoughts a lot right now.  Maybe ‘obsessive’ is the wrong word.  I just get focused and then … and then … and then.

COVID-19, self-isolation and the growing dissent of half the country definitely changes priorities.  It changes the fabric of life.  It changes how we get information, process information, react to information.  How we value food, necessitites and commodities.  It inspires nostalgia for a time not so long ago when we didn’t think twice about sitting next to a stranger on public transportation.

I read email chains among my family (spread across the globe) touting the strength and resolve of the WWII generation.  It isn’t something I can speak to directly.  One set of grandparents fought, the other were involved in the homefront war effort.  But my grandparents’ experiences were informed by incredibly different situations.  Two were British citizens, and WWII for the people of the United Kingdom was a different war than my American grandparents experienced. There is no way to compare one country to the other or place higher value on one person’s experience over anothers.  (It doesn’t stop everyone from trying, though).

Taking this thought and expanding upon it, I would propose that it’s nearly impossible to compare one generation of humans to another due to each generation facing uniquely time-stamped obstacles, privileges, etc. War as it was in 1943 could never exist in 2020.  Technology, communication … the very way in which we live our lives has completely changed.  Just as war during medieval times is not what WWII looked like.

What we are collectively experiencing globally isn’t like war, because there are no ‘good’ guys or ‘bad’ guys.  There isn’t universal support for the sacrifices made by the men & women on the front lines because war is war.  Political agendas inform what stance each person takes.  Agendas of all kinds and manipulation of information leaves us all pointing fingers at each other. This pandemic is murky and insidious and frightening in its mystery.  As citizens of the globe, we are suffering differently but perhaps, not less.

I’m tired and irritable.  I vacillate from one extreme to the other multiple times a day.  I don’t know myself half the time, I don’t know how I keep going.  I want to sleep.  I want to give up.  I want something to sweep in and save me.

But real life isn’t usually like that.  I have a book of poetry entitled “The Princess Saves Herself in this One.”  Yes.  Yes to this.  The princess has to save herself because believing that anything or anyone else is going to swoop in and take all the stress and worry away is just flat out niave.

But it doesn’t stop me from … sometimes … wishing for just that.

xox, g