Are we glimpsing at a closer-than-we-think reality? Soon, social distancing will be so normal that we won't go near each other in the stores and parks. That may be an extreme idea, but so is this whole situation. Not in my wildest dreams would this be a world-wide way of life. Imagine: everyone will be working from their bathrooms and taking conference calls between workouts. There will be no need to go into an office again. Paperless classes, paperless banking - it will soon be 100%.
I, too, am about to transition (temporarily I hope) to online teaching - but what if that's permanent? We're about to enter Week 2 of quarantine and many of us are struggling to grip this new reality. Others see little difference in their lives. Stay at home moms, authors, online businesses, and so many other jobs adapted long ago to the home-life. I am looking at teaching from a virtual classroom next week and I'm worried students won't want to engage. But we must adapt because that's what human history encourages us to do. We can look at the past and see that millions before us adapted to new environments and emerged from crises with new skills. The beginning is where we are now and it's our turn to mark history with pivotal decisions.
Recently, I went for a solitary fresh air power-stroll to clear the cobwebs. The wind was so strong it actually tangled my hair into knots! I'm still working out the kinks. You ever walk in wind so strong and constant that you are deafened by the howling noise and nothing else exists in the vortex? Not only was the wind wicked, but it tried to push me off the side of the path and onto the jagged rocks. I didn't think I'd make it up the hill! Every few minutes I considered turning around, but reasoned that the wind was still strong going back, so I may as well continue forward.
I remembered the birds I saw in the wind last weekend. They are light and nimble but never get defeated. I kept going and dismissed the notion of hailing a helicopter ( I wouldn't be saved anyway- social distancing). At the top of the hill, I sat down and let the wind whip the hair tie from my hair and lick over my jacket like an undulating ocean wave. Time to adapt.
