I feel like there are no words that can really describe what is happening in our communities, our country and our world right now. As COVID-19 takes hold and we head into our first day of national lockdown, there is an overwhelming feeling that nothing will ever truly be the same again.
As parents, we’re figuring out how to talk to our children about COVID-19, how to ‘be with’ them during a time of such anxiety and overwhelm, how to manage having them at home with us for the next 30 days (no mean feat!) and how to approach it all with the kind of calm that we want our children to be feeling right now. There are so many emotions tumbling around.
And just as we feel as though nothing will ever truly be the same again, we also feel a sense of kinship and connectedness with our communities and our country that we’ve never really felt before. A sense of the collective responsibility that we all have to stay at home and save lives. We know that we’re all in this together and, because of that, there is an overwhelming feeling of aroha (love), manaakitanga (kindness) and whanaungatanga (relationship) that seeps into all of the cracks that this dreaded virus has created.
Somehow, through so much heartache and anxiety, there is an incredible feeling of togetherness – even though we are physically distant. It’s this feeling of togetherness and empathy for others that has inspired me to blog.
It’s the social media groups set up to provide virtual connection in a time of physical isolation.
It’s the people in our communities who have been reaching out to our vulnerable in the lead-up to lockdown offering home deliveries of groceries.
It’s the early learning services and schools in the regions working tirelessly to provide online learning, activities, ideas and inspiration to families.
It’s the parents who are at home with their children. Who play with them, read to them, tell them stories of hope and show them what resilience looks like in the face of uncertainty.
It’s the doctors and nurses on the frontline, sacrificing so much personally to show up every day and take care of us.
It’s the men and women working crazy hours in essential services to be of service to all of us so that we can do what we need to do and stay home.
It’s the extended family, educators and carers selflessly providing care for the children of those working in essential services so that they can get on and do what they have been called to do.
It’s our country and community leaders who face the music every day – bombarded by questions and distinctly aware of the unprecedented crisis that surrounds them, yet bold in their decision making and courageous in a time of mass upheaval.
As we prepare for the next four weeks of isolation at home, we can choose to look at it as confinement or to look at it as a gift. The gift of time to be with our families, of being able to slow down, to enjoy our own company, engage in reflection and cherish the magical moments with our children.
When you look at it like that, it doesn’t sound so bad after all, does it?