We’ll be fine. I feel for China and Italy, but I’m not worried for us. It’s not going to get to our area! Hmm, yes, it is. Actually, it’s here. Memo advised us to take personal belongings home from our classroom in case school closes due to the pandemic. Smack. Shock. This is real. Too close! Surreal. Emotionally paralyzed, of sort?

Plan the work and work the plan. Okay, I’ve got this, no worries!

A fleeting thought, a mention on social media, a press conference on television. Then, whomp, crumble! The whole scene overwhelms me. Tears. Usually in private. Sometimes on my husband’s shoulder. Tears of fear of the unknown, tears grieving and missing what used to be, tears for others who are in pain, and for those who are sacrificing. Tears to release tension. As quickly as the tears come, they leave, in prayer form. Please let this be just a bad dream. Leave all of us. Now. Please.

St. Patrick’s Breastplate Prayer is a prayer for protection. I use my own version of it for a mantra in tough times. God on my left, God on my right, God in front of me, God behind me, God above me, God below me, God surround me. God within me. Repeat until…. Using it daily, these days!

To slow my breathing for refocus – breathe in through my nose count to three, out through my mouth count to six. Five times. Usually works. Then chit-chat and laugh with a family member or a friend who can share a piece of joy, be a positive ray of sunshine.

Sometimes I’ll reach to my collection of inspirational messages. Calm and strength resurface. My current favorite is printed on a pretty purple background, and surrounded by colorful spring flowers.

“And the people sat still and the earth healed and Spring came, flowers bloomed, bringing hope and beauty back into the world…” Okay, I’ve got this, for the moment.

Time to be constructive. Get out of the paralyzed state. Out of bed. Off the chair. Chores. School work. Reading. Writing. Napping. Texting. Telephone. Television – news looping sure can pull you in and down! Video chatting with kids and grandchildren; they’re all fine, so I’m fine. Miss them horribly, but I’ve still got this, for the moment. We’re going to be okay!

Sleep is a blessing, a safe escape, a way to refresh. Sometimes it takes a little while ‘til I remember to use this technique to quiet my runaway mind. I start at my toes. “Toe(s) go to sleep. Heel(s) go to sleep. Ankle(s) go to sleep. Calf go to sleep….” The rule is that the minute any part of my body flinches, I have to restart. The flinch breaks the focus. I usually don’t get beyond my knees. Okay, I’ve got this, for the moment.

I love that feeling when I first wake up. My mind is clear. Freedom from the invisible beast. I open my eyes. Okay, I’ve got this, for the moment.

Questions. It this real? Wait, what? No alarm? I’m not supposed to go to work today? This is real, a pandemic, and I’m not supposed to go anywhere or visit anyone in person, right? Okay, new day. I’ve got this, for the moment.

Wait, what? I’ve got to teach online? From home? Very willing. Beyond leery! Huge learning curve for me with new technology. How can I offer my very best for my students; how can I offer them what they deserve, when this whole scene is overwhelming me. Crumble. Here it goes. Again. Mantra. Breath. Reach out to friends and colleagues. They are all dealing and feeling the same. Okay, I’ve got this, for the moment.

This thing is here to stay for how long? Weeks? Months? Governor says it’s bad. President says it’s bad, but we’ll be okay, soon. Our state has the most of any state? I live next door to the epicenter of this beast? This beast has a rolling epicenter! The whole scene overwhelms me. Let’s turn off the news. Watch a movie for distraction. Prayers of thanks we can distract; many cannot. Okay, I’ve got this, for the moment.

I know, we’re supposed to always “look on the bright side of things,” and realize, “things could always be worse.” True and valid; caution: to be used at appropriate times. These statements should never be used to downplay or minimize someone else’s feelings. During a pandemic is generally not the time to “be right.” It is generally not the time to “take a stand.”

Everyone has their thing. Some private, some public. Our perception is our reality. We each have our own. We each have our own way and timing for dealing with big things. Big. Things. Pandemics.

This pandemic is affecting everyone in as many ways as there are people in this world. Someone might validly retort to this post, “That’s ridiculous, you should…” or “You think that’s bad, you should see….” At that moment the reader and writer, or the listener and speaker, must remember that it’s okay for each person to talk or write through their perceptions, their thoughts and views. Different from yours is okay, for the moment.

Remember to take a breath, be extra respectful, kind, and patient with ourselves and each other’s perceptions. (Note to my Bruce: I promise I will do this for you! xoxo)

Yup, usually there are worse things. Yup, usually there is a bright side. In time, we’ll each find our bright side and be thankful. Acknowledge. Guide. Enjoy. Hope. Love. Positive. Laughter. Listen. Be. This isn’t forever. We’re going to be fine. It’s okay, I’ve got this, for the moment.

Copyright © 2020. Suzann Peterson. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this text or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information, address the publisher.