You can’t sprint a marathon. You can try, but you will crash and you will burn. I’m not speaking from experience. I’m not a runner, yet. I am working on it. Any time I am working to master a new skill I read about it, obsessively. I scan each article or book looking for nuggets of wisdom that I can apply to my practice.
At this point I’ve read my fair share about running. One of the most common principles I come across is: don’t start out running too fast. You have to ease into it to build up your strength and endurance. I can’t help but apply that principle to what we are experiencing right now.
Pictures used to be worth a thousand words. Back when there were no filters or retakes, you would point, shoot and hope for the best. Take for example this photo of me on my second birthday with a mouthful of cake and a black eye.
Now I don’t think this was the image my mom was hoping for when she took the photo, but it is the one she got a few weeks after the photo was taken when she gathered up the rolls of film in the junk drawer and dropped them off at Black’s Photography to have them developed. There is a story behind the photo; the thousand words that my mom remembers by heart nearly thirty-five years after it was taken.
I ran into a chair a couple of days before my birthday and bust my face open. There was plenty of blood because, well, I’m a bleeder. My mom took me to see my paediatrician, Dr. W. She asked him if he thought she should book an appointment with a plastic surgeon given it was my face. He subsequently became offended and determined he was adequately qualified to suture my little face. He enlisted my mom to hold me down as he did his work. I cried the entire time. Once he was finished, through my tears I exclaimed, “I love you, Dr. W” and I gave him a hug. I don’t remember any of this. I simply shared the photo with my mom and she told me what happened.
As I scroll through my Instagram feed, especially now, I can’t help but wonder what the words are behind some of the photos I’m seeing. I am noticing a couple of themes being projected: perfection and the opposite of that.
Some parents are complaining about the fact that their kids are home and the challenges it presents; while others seem to view it all as a blessing, a perfect, harmonious little blessing. Both perspectives are valid. But let’s not kid ourselves, pictures today tell the story the curator wants them to tell and typically they are light on the context within which the photo was taken.
I am seeing photos of people who haven’t skipped a beat. People who were born ready for this. They are home schooling their children already, on March break no less! They have activities figured out that do not rely heavily on tablets and television, they have nutritious food plans ready, have taken online sewing classes so they can clothe their children, just in case (think Maria von Trapp only more impressive), they know how to filter and reuse their water and they know exactly how they’ll ration their kale. They have organized their closets. Worked out. Given multiple shout outs to God for a variety of things as if he is active on Instagram. They have urged people to stay home. They are on fire, really, they’ve got this, and maybe that makes you feel like you don’t. Don’t let it. Easier said than done, right?
These are challenging times. We’ve never navigated anything like this before. So next time you are lying on the couch after a day of cumulative exhaustion, scrolling through the highlights reel, look closely at the photos. I’m going to let you in on a secret: many of the people creating the photos that are making you feel inadequate are sprinting a marathon.
Give them a couple of weeks. Let them sprint the first mile and then settle into a pace that is a little more manageable and realistic once things normalize. This is how they are dealing with things. They are doing their best and in some way or another they likely also feel inadequate, but more notably, they too are scared.
I read an article this morning that quoted a child psychologist, noting, “the children are passengers in this and we are driving the car.” The cargo may be precious but it is resilient and agile, there is no need to speed, folks, we are all going to arrive at the destination at the same time and I guarantee we will all be exhausted.
Day 7 Observations
1. Keeping up with the Jones’ has been taken to a new level: people are making bread. Do I need to make bread? Better yet, do we all eat bread again? Don’t tell them, but I’ve ordered a cow on Amazon. I’m going to learn to churn my own butter.
2. I bought some gym equipment on Amazon. It should arrive any day now. I also saw an ad on Instagram for a program called 21 Day Booty Core, I didn’t know that the glutes had cores! It is possible that I will emerge from this crisis much more knowledgeable about the mechanics of the human body and looking like I swallowed a turtle. #abs4days
3. Patrick Stewart (aka Professor Charles Xavier from X-Men) is reading a sonnet a day on Instagram. I’m not sure why.
4. I suspect Dairy Queen is missing me right about now. I miss you too and hope you are doing ok.
5. I do not know what cream of tartar is. I have learned it is an essential ingredient for making play-dough. Even if we hadn’t stockpiled PlayDoh during the good times ($1 each per tub at Toys r Us) I feel like we’d be using our flour to make things like bread, maybe.
Stay healthy and at home!
Kate
The Donkey Made Me Do It 