Quarantine Bloglette: Our Job

I enjoy watching CBS Sunday Morning. They currently have a short segment that shows pictures of people who have died he previous week from Covid-19. What I admire about this segment is that you'll not only see well-known faces, but you'll see a picture, and, beneath the name it will say, "Jane Smith, Bus Driver." They are giving honor to all walks of life, rather than making the strong statement that only the passing of the famous is worth noting. They show scene after scene of firefighters and police forces standing outside hospitals cheering, blaring sirens and holding signs in gratitude for the healthcare staff. But they also consistently mention truckers and cashiers and other workers who are keeping us going during this tough time.

Douglas recently read an essay to me written by Mo Perry, called Are You Struggling with Feeling Inessential? She writes about the struggles of feeling like we aren't currently contributing to or necessary for society the way we were when we had our regular jobs and could get out and be obviously productive. (My words to sum up, not hers.) She mentions reading many essays about going easy on oneself, living mindfully and waiting this pandemic out. I, myself, have written that. But she has a hard time with that.

None of us are completely out of work. Our jobs, our occupations have temporarily changed. She suggests that a good deal of our work is settling into the discomfort of isolation and waiting. And this is hard work. It's not tangible like moving something from here to there, or fixing this or that. It's grappling within ourselves that we can't change the overall situation; finding what can be learned; and striving to emerge stronger, smarter. What I love about her essay is how she says that the job of those of us who are staying out of the way at home is to work with our own suffering to gain compassion and empathy for everyone else who's suffering along with us.

And it's more than that. It's recognizing the importance of that work alongside that of the (more obvious) healthcare workers, researchers and scientists. I've shared this story before, but I'll briefly share it again. When I sang at the Renaissance Festivals, I was envious of the huge crowds other acts drew, while our little madrigal group drew few - many of whom were just getting out of the sun, or taking advantage of an empty seat in which to sit and eat during our show. I got a bit miffed that so many people would just walk past us without giving us a chance. Then, one day as I walked around the grounds, I passed a harpist. She played beautifully. But I didn't stop to listen. No one else did either. But I realized then how much different the atmosphere would be - how much it would lack - if she were not sitting there under that tree playing. I would miss her, even if I didn't stop and stand and listen. That made me feel better about my role and the role of my group.

We need our own role. And we need not compare our role with that of another. Is it easier to work exhaustive hours in attempt to comfort and heal the ailing or become a compassionate, empathetic person? Which is more important? There is no answer other than they're just different. Let's settle into our roles knowing that as we evolve in them, we contribute to the evolution of society.

This is Peasant Girl Knitting a Stocking by Filipp Malyavin, 1895 (I probably apologize too much for the low quality of my photographs. If I'd known I'd be posting these, I'd have done a better job. Non-reflective glass in the galleries would help.)