.SOMETIMES RAW.

My son and I went out for our daily walk when we got caught in the middle of a huge “Anti-Corona-Demonstration” in Vienna. Thousands of people screamed, music, whistles, climbing on things, beer, burning trash cans, smoking, and telling the world how fed up they are with this lockdown and the virus while using curse words from A to Z. Oh, this weird lingering uncertain situation since November 2020. Many lost everything. Many will never recover from this. What will happen to the economy and how and when will it be back to “normal”? One man screamed into a megaphone, “I want my control back. I want to be free and make my own decisions again!”

There are times in our lives when we are confronted with the reality that we are not in control of the world around us. As hard as we try, and as much as we would like to think we are in control, the reality is, we are not. We never were, we never will be. And there are seasons and circumstances that remind us of that fact. For example, a government telling us that the lockdown will be extended and certain stores and restaurants will remain closed. Or you are desperately waiting for your appointment to finally get divorced and the judge is sick. A natural disaster, a terminal diagnosis, an unexpected layoff, a store closure, and many more. At this current moment in time, almost everyone in the world, simultaneously, is being confronted with the reality of lost control through the spread of this damn virus. A tiny virus, invisible to the naked eye, has brought the world to a screeching halt, disrupting everything in its path. Our control has been upended. No doubt about it.

We, of course, never had as much control over our lives and the world as we thought we did, but still, it is hard to lose the little that we had. Like simply deciding to go to a restaurant. Remember a “restaurant“? That was a place where we used to go to to eat. We dressed up sometimes. Like make-up and nice clothing. I know, it was a long time ago so here is a little reminder in case you forgot. What is a restaurant you may ask? Words in italics are important for possible future use if these facilities will open again.

A “restaurant” is a place where you were able to sit down with other people at the SAME table. No (FFP2) masks, no hand sanitizing. When you sat down, you could order something from a, wait…. what was the word…. a “menu“. A “waiter” came to your table to take your order. Then the waiter would write your order down and tell the “cook in the kitchen” to prepare it for you. Amazing, right?! And so surreal! Then the “waiter” would bring the food and drinks to your table where you sat and had a great time with your “friends“. Laughing and singing was allowed. You were able to sit in this “restaurant” until 1 a.m. and talk and talk and have a great time. Sometimes, you and your friends went out “dancing” after to a “bar” or “club” where “a band” on occasion played “live music“.

The world, it feels, has spun into chaos, riots, demonstrations, and more uncertainty. So how do we respond when the world is in chaos? How do we begin to move forward? For one, we take back control of what we can control. Even in the smallest of ways. We have been reminded that we are not in ultimate control of the universe. But that does not mean we have lost all ability to maintain control over our lives. Even if our usual day-to-day opportunities have been taken from us by others, there is still much we can control.

We can always love our family and friends and meet them. Even if it is outside sometimes.

We can wait for another appointment for our divorce and have fun in the meantime.

We can choose to be afraid of this virus and the news or not.

We can choose to not wear this damn uncomfortable FFP2 mask when we are outside, or in the car. WHY are people wearing this mask when they are outside or driving a car?

We can control what time we wake up in the morning and are even more fortunate if we still have a workplace to go to.

We can still choose to get ready in the morning for the day ahead. No need to wear sweatpants and let yourself go.

We can eat and live healthy. We can remain physically active and fit.

We can read and be creative.

We can make our bed in the morning, and have a clean and comfortable home.

We can rearrange, donate, and enjoy our stuff and things. I have never sat in my reading chair as much as during this lockdown.

We can enjoy the things we have and haven’t had time to focus on.

We can choose what we watch and listen to, and we can control what time we turn off the news.

We can buy what we want even if online. We can always buy food. And toilet paper.

We can always control our attitude and our response to the people and events around us.

We can choose kind words in conversations and offer help to others who are in need.

We can declutter our apartments and houses.

We can think about all the things we used to do all the time and if they are still meaningful and necessary.

If you are faithful, you can choose to rely upon it during this time. Or meditate. Whatever helps you.

We can still decide to make the most of each day in front of us.

Controlling what you can might not seem like much, but it is something. Actually, it is a lot more than just something. It is an essential strategy for each of us going forward. It is the first step in moving from a reactive life to a proactive one. And it is the first step in making the most of our current circumstances. So, focus your energy there, even if it seems like very little. When the world is in chaos, control what you can.

Stay healthy, stay sane, and stay focused. We will all get through this.

“But moods, of course, are only points of view.” –Adam Phillips

I relax on the couch and read “The Memory Police” by Yoko Ogawa. (Read this book!) but a friend tries to convince me to write a musical. I don’t write musicals I say. Beside the point he says. He wants it to be about life in my apartment during the pandemic, during the different stages of lockdown, during Christmas time. I picture “code red” going off like a signal in a dark theater, red strobe lights, people running for the exits only to find them locked. My sort of movie that is running in my head. But then I start thinking about it:

My Pandemic Musical

We are eating pasta with a very salty sauce ( I cooked) while he pours me a glass of wine. It has been a sad day. My son cried a lot because he had a bad day at school (school is still a thing these days). I was angry he misbehaved at school. Then I cried a lot because of some pretty bad news I received from back home. My movements are sloppy. I am tired. But the kitchen (my favorite place in the apartment) is warm and our cheeks are flushed from the spicy sauce. “Just picture a simple set, a stage with three rooms. You will come up with something. You are creative.” My friend is animated I guess. “Three characters. There would be the scene where your son has a fight with his puzzle, and then you get a phone call with something else crazy.” Okay, I let it go and start writing:

Scene 1: Weather conditions: Cold, damp, foggy, grey, winter, and no sun. We are stuck in the apartment. Again.

I picture myself as an actor/dancer breaking up a faux fight between my stage son and his puzzle. Stage left: Mother is roused from her stationary position with her book, by the noise of the boy in the other room. A light follows her as she moves towards the commotion. My body would be all elegant and strong, I would position myself between the boy and the puzzle, braving light savers and unpredictable anger, fling my arms out to signal distress, exaggerate my shapes so those in the back of the theater could see. Then I explode and cry. Endless sobbing. Enough is enough. Not another death, I think. Please! I have seen so many people die in my work-career but not privately. Enough! My son says he can calm down, no problem. He will put away his toys. He will behave in school. He hugs me and tells me, “Everything will be okay, mommy. We are together.”

Scene 2: Bodies would move between the rooms. And moods would change and we wouldn’t leave the house. My son is annoying because he keeps asking if he can blow out the candles at the table. I tell him, as usual, that I want to keep them burning. There is sauce on his face. He still wants to blow them out. My friend talks over the bickering boy. In the musical version of this, the voices of my family wouldn’t compete but from a coherent song – discord turning into harmony, an appropriate amount of tension mounting and then breaking. A solo ringing out and dissolving into laughter. Voices would fade in and out. “We need jokes to make this work,” I say. “We have to laugh about the whole thing and not take it too seriously. Look, we are healthy, we are financially okay. It is just another lockdown,” he adds.

“And here the light and here the dark.” – David Bergen

Scene 3: I miss half of what is being said and move the candles to the center of the table. There is pasta on the floor. I am tired of tension. I am at the same time irritated and turned on by this conversation. How absurdly exaggerated, how ridiculous. How fun, this sense of play. It does feel somewhat invigorating to stray from our standard table talk (which, to be honest, is a bit tiring whenever someone mentions new Corona rules and regulations) into “fantasy territory” that is so real in a couple of days. But I have always found it weird to plan jokes in advance. Isn’t humor necessarily spontaneous? Many think about jokes this way: individual, articulate bites of funny. Things that start as an idea and get fleshed out into full form. A liturgy of humor. I guess I am up for the task of authoring them.

I imagine I would enjoy planning the set. I could make the outer landscape mirror the inner. I am thrilled to picture the control I would have. I would add a happy scene: One in which my son reads by himself, legs entangled, curled up in pillows and blankets, there could be a string of lights, my child’s carefree and artful painting taped up behind him. Later, the audience would recognize the painting as the crumpled ball on the floor and the lights would have become askew, indicating a change in mood, mounting sadness, loneliness, fatigue. No school but homeschooling. He misses his friends. I could manifest our moods, project them into the world. Look, here is where we are bored. Here is where we put on socks. Here is where we rage, see the tossed pillow, the mess, the broken toys? Look at the paper planes everywhere in the apartment. Millions. Here is a half-clothed boy gesturing in front of a mirror. Here is the comedy, the strain, the drollery, and impatience for all this mess to be over. In the end, I would scream: Can somebody please fix this?

The End.

Can you believe it is December already? The months have just flown by. Regardless, I hope everyone is staying healthy and safe as it has been a crazy year so far.

As we crawl through lockdown 2, I have got to admit, it’s been tough to find motivation. Motivation to stay connected with friends, and motivation for writing and studying. It is cold here in Vienna (not Canada-cold) and dark at 4 p.m. so what motivates me is the thought to go home after work, make hot chocolate and curl up on the couch with a good book. No need to go anywhere since everything is closed anyway. Though I am trying to remain optimistic, staying indoors and everything going on in the world is starting to take a toll on my mind. I am learning to find joy in my routines, but some days are just tougher than others. This uncertainty gets me every time even though I know nothing is certain in life.

Luckily, a few things will start to open up next week, but I am grateful for the time we have been able to spend outside in nature. We have discovered some new spots in Austria to keep our weekends interesting. Austria is one of my favorite places to explore and photograph. The mountains make me feel so small.

If there is anything I have learned in 2020, it is that I don’t have a clear idea or vision of what will happen next in this world. With everything that is going on, from the pandemic to the protests, terrorist attacks, the government “allowing us” to celebrate Christmas with family (which will then lead to another lockdown in January 2021), and the politics around the election in the US, we don’t seem to be getting a break, do we? It is easy to look at our current situation in despair, and experience depression, anxiety, grief, and distress.

I cannot offer any overnight solutions, but my heart keeps tugging me to share something because I know that this year has been difficult and that I am not alone in feeling despair. The many things that have happened this year continue to reflect how broken this world is: the hate, injustice, sickness, and pain.

Amid the chaos that this year continues to bring, the thing that brings me hope is not this world, but a greater, more perfect world to come. I genuinely believe that it is possible to live in a place with no racism, no climate change, no sorrow, no pain, no suffering, no fear. If we all would work a tiny bit together instead of against each other on a daily basis, a big step in the right direction would be made. To find joy in the little things again, to be grateful and appreciate to be alive. I can find peace in that.

It also shouldn’t take the holiday season to remind us to be thankful as we have much to be grateful for every day. Here are a few things I have noticed just today, that made everything just a little bit better as gratitude can transform common days into thanksgivings, routine jobs into joy, and change ordinary opportunities into blessings. Keep your head up and may this short and simple list make you realize that there is still good all around us.

• family
• a helping hand
• a loving partner
• friends
• warm sheets on a cold morning
• to be able to get up without any pain, make breakfast, and start the day
• a new day which brings a clean slate
• a slow morning with time for reading before I wake up my son
• the warmth of the sun
• signs of growth (yourself, plants, your child(ren)
• a cup of water to quench the thirst
• the perfect bite of food (especially if someone else cooks for you)
• that I have more belongings than I will ever need
• a moment of quiet
• to see true excitement and happiness in my son’s eyes
• good, nutritious homemade food
• a safe home
• fresh, clean air
• the morning and afternoon light
• a quickly cleaned surface
• playing in the snow
• the feeling of taking a hot bath or shower
• peace within

Stay happy. Stay healthy. Stay sane.