Life in the Time of Coronavirus

I told a friend yesterday I did not plan to blog about the coronavirus outbreak and its effect on daily life until more time had passed. With the benefit of hindsight, I figured, I could reflect with greater clarity. That is true. But understanding how I was feeling during the time of an event is just as powerful. So perhaps my reflections will change. Perhaps not. But here is how I am feeling right now:

• Everything changed so quickly. We left for Colorado on the Sunday of spring break, March 8. I did not feel irresponsible or crazy or reckless by traveling to Colorado. By the time we returned home on Thursday, March 12, everything had blown up. The surrounding counties to where we stayed at Snow Mountain Ranch had become "hot spots" of coronavirus outbreaks, and all who had traveled there were supposed to self-quarantine for 14 days. K-State moved to suspend in-person classes for the week following spring break and to remove to online classes for the following week. The school board planned to gather for an emergency meeting on Friday to decide the actions of the public school district. It felt like the world changed in a few short days. 
• News is outdated by the hour. I am used to checking the year on a news article to make sure it is current and not recycled from a few years ago. I am less used to needing to check the time-stamp of an article from today - as even today's news can become outdated within the course of a few hours. 
• It feels like post-9/11 right now. I was a graduate student on September 11, 2001, and I viscerally feel the same uncertainty that gripped the nation in the days following the attack. Time stands still. Nothing is clear. Life will be different on the other side, but it is unclear now what that picture looks like. 
• I miss social interaction more than I thought. I am an introvert. I love to read books and write blogs and watch movies and play games with my family. And yet, in the absence of in-person social interaction beyond people in my immediate family of four, I feel a bit lonely and adrift. 
• My heart keeps breaking. For the people who are ill or deceased. For the medical and health care workers facing tremendous stress and uncertainty. For those in communications. For small businesses and restaurants and hair stylists and those whose livelihoods are at stake. For the graduating seniors who will not have a traditional commencement exercise. For so, so, so, so many others. 
• I am confused by social distancing. We were not in a mandated-quarantine Colorado county, but Grand county, where we stayed, borders two other counties that are. What does that mean? Are we okay to leave the house? Is going to the pharmacy okay? What about picking up something from my office? Should we stay home completely to be on the safe side? For how long? 
• Fresh air is so lovely. It has been gray and cold the last few days, and yet, just stepping outside in our driveway and breathing in fresh air has been the highlight of each day. 
• No one knows anything. How long will this pandemic last? What will be the repercussions to our community? We have educated guesses from experts - but there are so many variables and unknowns. 

I am reminding myself this is a good time to take things day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute. To be flexible. To remain full of compassion. To be creative. To be careful. To be loving. And we shall all collectively see how this unfolds. 

Don't Monetize Your Joy

I have had a blog for nearly 12 years. I have loved to write my whole life. In the past few years, I have invested energy into trying to improve my writing. However, I have been disappointed to find that much of the advice I read online focuses on turning a passion into a business.

I would divide most blogs into two categories - a small niche audience that reads for family updates, and a wider audience that reads for a narrowly targeted purpose. My blog and writing are decidedly in the first category. But I would still love to improve and strengthen what I am writing. And yet much of the advice in the world of writing and the Internet focuses on "monetizing your blog" (such as including targeting ads) or "writing an e-book to capture new customers" (such as writing a book, but with the primary purpose of developing a mailing list to use in advertising).

I am fortunate to have a "regular job" I love. I am not counting on starting a new side business. I think forming a small business or part-time job or full-time job from an activity that brings you joy is a valuable, fulfilling, soul-expanding endeavor. But I am interested in developing my passion so it brings more joy for me - not necessarily the world at large.

So why does our culture emphasize that the "next step" of any hobby or joy or passion should be to figure out how to make money from the activity? Can we want to improve without wanting to enter a monetary exchange for our passion? Why is accepting sponsored posts as a blogger seen as the next logical step for growing a platform? Why, when I took a local class on writing, was the focus on the target demographics of different sectors of the publishing industry seen as more important than the quality of writing itself?

I think why I have resisted developing a more focused blog or seeking out a wider audience is because writing in this capacity is for me. It brings me joy. It fulfills me. And worrying about what kind of writing would sell or bring in more clicks depletes the very passion it gives.

I realize this will not be everyone's perspective. But I think monetizing our joy comes with real trade-offs. So paint that picture. Sew that quilt. Write those words down on paper. Perhaps no one would pay money for these outcomes. But your joy is enough.