I can’t begin to fathom the pain and hardship of those who have lost loved ones to COVID-19 or are suffering from it.
We who have thus far been spared are indeed living a surreal existence.
One thing, however, is very real: the heightened realization that nothing in life can or should be taken for granted.
If you can, leverage that realization by putting your thoughts, feelings, and stories into writing — and sharing them with your world. Yes, I’m suggesting you blog.
I know, many of you can’t even think about partaking in the luxury of blogging in these trying times. I understand I’m running the risk of sounding tone deaf and out of touch to suggest otherwise.
Yet that’s exactly what I’m doing.
In recent days and weeks, memories long dormant have been popping back into my consciousness.
I’ve been feeling grateful for small things I probably wouldn’t even have noticed a month ago.
Petty grievances seem so “2019” now (which is saying a lot for a sexagenarian with curmudgeonly tendencies).
And, to be honest, I find myself with a little more time on my hands.
Does any of this sound like you?
I do hope you and your loved ones are staying safe. I hope you are able to connect with people safely. I hope you are coping. I hope you are giving and receiving compassion. I hope you are finding ways to not only survive but thrive, despite all that is so daunting.
Think about sharing your stories online.
Your stories don’t have to be long. They don’t have to be perfect. They don’t have to go viral.
This is a time for storytelling if there ever was one.
- Tell about the virtual board games you play with your grandkids.
- Share fond remembrances of loved ones.
- Recount funny stories about times you were foolish.
- Thank friends, neighbors, grocery clerks, delivery drivers healthcare workers, and anyone else for their selfless acts of kindness.
Tell these stories out loud, online.
Tell these stories for your followers, for your friends, for your children, for your parents.
Tell these stories for yourself.
If and when you do, please consider telling me and anyone else who lands on this Web page about it, in the comments below.
Thanks for listening. Stay safe and be well.
Like what you see? Share with others and join my mailing list. No long-term commitment, unsubscribe any time.
It was nearly four decades ago. I had recently invented something and had tons of meetings scheduled with engineers, business partners and prospective investors in a city that was a six-hour drive from my home. It was a very exciting time for me. I could hardly wait to get to each of those meetings, which, unfortunately, made every six-hour trip feel like an eternity. Seriously, I felt like a child who was constantly asking “Are we there yet?” Time and distance seemed to be moving in s-l-o-w m-o-t-i-o-n. I felt like a prisoner serving a life sentence. I had so much time to use up before getting where I wanted to be, and the more frustrated I felt, the slower time moved. It was truly painful.
Then it happened. I still don’t know how or why, but about a third of the way and dozens of Are-We-There-Yet’s into my sixth or seventh trip, it suddenly hit me. Yes, the long drive had felt like the enemy because it was keeping me from being where I wanted to be. But, couldn’t I also think of it as a friend that’s giving me a chance to do something that I know is terribly important but that as a busy professional with too much on my plate, I rarely have a chance to do, which is to JUST BE! What a treat, I thought, to get off the treadmill and JUST BE for a while – in fact, the longer the while, the better.
From that point on, I became as eager to sit in the car and JUST BE as I was to be at my meetings. I no longer felt like a prisoner who couldn’t wait to be released. The drive no longer felt like the enemy. It had become my friend – and a good one at that. What’s more, I learned a valuable lesson that continues to serve me well: Not only are there silver linings to be found in even the darkest of clouds, with practice and a little bit of luck, you can actually turn some of those clouds inside out.