20 Considerations for Times of Normalcy and Upheaval
By: Eric Demore
Tags: Inspiration, Mindfulness, Life Lessons, Pandemic, Coronavirus

20 Considerations for Times of Normalcy and Upheaval

How to discover, and rediscover, what makes you human

Photo: Grant/Unsplash

Consider home. Discover the way the sun enters a room mid-afternoon. Rediscover a room’s hidden corners. Light a candle. Take care of your home. Clean it, but try to find pleasure in the act: Taking care of the space around you can help reduce anxiety and establish a sense of control and order.

Consider time. Is it lunchtime? Bedtime? If you benefit from a sense of control, work at maintaining a routine. Otherwise, relish the freedom to eat when you’re hungry and sleep when you’re tired.

On that note:

Consider sleep. According to Matthew Walker, author of Why We Sleep, sleep is the single most important factor for our well-being. It boosts our ability to learn, restocks our immune system, and helps us make logical decisions.

Stress tends to mess with our sleep schedule, so consider making the act of sleeping more pleasurable. Experiment with leaving your phone in another room. Take a nap. Studies show that 20–30 minutes can be enough for an improvement in energy and mood.

And:

Consider food. Cook something. Something familiar or something new. Samin Nosrat’s new podcast might improve your isolation cooking (and her soothing voice doesn’t hurt, either). And Christina Tosi of Milk Bar is helping you bake with what you’ve got in the pantry. Bon Appetit is stepping up with recipes, too.

A kitchen is a good place to be.

Or, if cooking isn’t your jam, simply savor. Taste an orange. Enjoy a slice of fresh-baked bread, if you can.

And if you wish, consider the people who produce the produce. The growers and transporters. The grocery store workers who unpack the trucks and stock the shelves and ring you through.

Consider trees. Trees make for excellent role models. Trees are grounded; their roots go deep in search of sustenance and to prepare for storms. Still, their limbs reach upward and outward in search of light, filling open space for maximum exposure to the sun. Notice how there are no straight lines with trees. And consider their potential, and the imminent arrival of buds. The possibility of transformation.

Consider books. The ideas and stories they contain. The relationship we can have with words. This world-making skill you possess called reading. If the mind is a tad distracted, ditch the need to read one cover-to-cover. Dip into books. Read passages aloud. Appreciate a book for what it is: a tremendous piece of technology, unaffected by blips in the Wi-Fi.

Still:

Consider Wi-Fi. It’s maybe not, as some memes have suggested, the foundation of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs; but we can’t deny what strong Wi-Fi gives us.

Wi-Fi is a powerful tool for connection. It allows us to connect with so much: with our friends and family, with art and ideas (Google’s Arts & Culture resource is rich and free). Wi-Fi keeps us entertained, social, and yes, at times blissfully distracted.

Consider animals. Pay attention to your pet. Enjoy the act of caring for them, of feeding them, and giving them shelter. Take delight in their behaviors.

And if you don’t have a pet, take a moment to appreciate how amazing animals can be. Take in this thread of a doctor on Twitter reuniting a squirrel mother with her babies.

Or (re)discover programs like BBC’s Planet Earth or CBC’s The Nature of Things. There’s something about nature and animals that lends peace and perspective.

My pal Lukas spotted and photographed this handsome fella, a male House Finch, from his Toronto balcony this week. Photo: Lukas Notten

Consider birds. They’re returning, you know. And you don’t need binoculars or a wide-brim hat to appreciate them. Just peek out a window, and see what you can find in the hedges, on the telephone wires, or gliding high up on an invisible current.

Or read about this month’s miraculous return of the Dwarf Kingfisher, spotted for the first time in 130 years.

Consider photos. They’re everywhere: on your phone, in the cloud. Take a deep dive into your harddrive. Delete the dull ones. Don’t think too hard on it; you’ll know which photos matter. Send photos that bring you joy to the people that do the same.

Consider social media. Or perhaps, a bit of social media distancing. Consume responsibly. Aim for content with depth. Like this clever, beautiful visual essay about Estonia. Or this podcast by Brené Brown on the universal experience of being human.

Consider your strengths. Take the free Signature Strengths test at the VIA Institute on Character. What’s your strength? Is it courage? Creativity? Humor? Identify your strengths, and seek ways of putting them into practice.

Consider the neighborhood. On a (physically distant) walk around the block, take an unfamiliar street. Observe the color and texture of roofs, the sound of a distant dog. Sidewalk art, graffiti. The stamp on the sidewalk concrete. The smell of barbecue.

And while you’re out there:

Consider the neighbors. Notice them on their porches, in their windows. Remember to keep your distance, but also remember to wave or smile or say hello. We’re alone, but we’re together.

Consider the breath. This is a simple one, but also probably the most powerful. There’s no wrong way to go about it; your body knows how to breathe. Follow the air as it enters the body. If you want, you can count to three or five. Then follow the air as it leaves the body. Repeat as needed.

This technique can be especially useful in moments of heightened anxiety. Like the roots of a tree, the breath anchors the rest.

Consider the body. Treat it well. Perform a body scan; where do you carry your tension? Release your jaw. Inspect your nails. Enjoy a hot shower. Moisturize, stretch, and meditate. Eat well. Don’t worry about the loss of structured exercise. Brush your teeth, and brush your hair. Do these things in the middle of the day, if you wish, and especially if it makes you feel better.

(Side note to fellas with isolation beards: Consider cleaning that thing.)

Consider nothing. Simply sit or lie on the floor and observe your thoughts for three to five minutes. Observe what arises without judgment. Put on a timer if helpful. Do things without your phone. Sit by a window, and watch the world do its own form of nothing.

Consider delight. Or, if doing nothing sounds a bit much, do one thing only, and find delight in that thing. Making a cup of coffee, say, or completing a puzzle with your kids.

“Delight is important,” writes Kristin Lin from The On Being Project, “precisely because it grows alongside our sorrow and our ephemerality, much like a flower out of asphalt.”

Consider stars. No, really. In fact, it’s what “consider” used to mean: con (with) + sider (stars). Or, “to be with stars.”

It’s not always easy to get a glimpse of constellations, especially in the city or the suburbs. But even the act of looking skyward somehow feels more hopeful than looking down.

Consider the star. Notice the sun getting stronger with each day. I’m not calling this a metaphor. It’s just a pleasant thing: to feel the sun’s life-giving warmth on your face, growing stronger, making way for growth. For renewal. For the return of those things we’ve missed.