Observing Community

I saw a picture online recently of a family. In the first panel, the family was scattered in the room, each person on his or her phone, no one looking at each other or interacting with each other (though they might have been texting each other from across the room…I hate to admit it, but my husband and I do that!). The caption for the first panel was, “Normal time.” In the second panel, people were outside. You could see people playing and walking; one couple was roller blading. The caption said, “During quarantine.” I find myself very aware of the reality of the picture. Most days, as an introvert, I cherish my time at home. I love what I do as a pastor, and then the way I recharge my own spiritual batteries is by having some quiet personal time. I journal, I read, I quilt, and I color. Now I’m in forced introvert time and I find myself…wanting to go to the mall.

            Eek. Even typing that makes me cringe. 

            Like many of you, I’ve taken to working at home and mixing actual work with housework. I go for a walk in the afternoon (or as my inner-Brit* says, “my afternoon constitutional.”). I still read and I learned long ago that taking screen-breaks is what I really need to stay sane (seriously, the difference between Becki who spends the day on the screen and the Becki who gets many screen breaks is often drastic…just ask my husband!). 

            So why am I itching to go to the mall?

            It is an interesting shift. I find myself erasing things from my calendar instead of adding things to the calendar, and there is a little sense of relief that comes with that. But I also find myself craving connections. I suppose I don’t notice it as much in “normal times” because I have plenty of connections. I connect with people every day, so intentionally building connections into my day isn’t normally something I have to do. It isn’t something many of us normally have to do, so I think we’re hyper-aware of the need for human beings to have community. 

            When I take my “afternoon constitutional,” I notice that more people are saying hello to each other. Most times when I walk, there’s a kind of tunnel vision. A kid on a bike said hello to me yesterday, which surprised me. I also noticed phrases written in sidewalk chalk along my walk; it made it a fun kind of scavenger hunt to round a corner and see “You are amazing!” in bright peach chalk. I also have found that I am much more reticent to put my ear buds in. I’ve been walking without music or podcasts, and have found my walks to be much more enjoyable. 

            I also find myself thinking, “I hope this continues.” While I can’t wait for the virus to be a thing of the past that kids born next year will have no memory of, I also hope that parts of the quarantine continue. I hope we continue to be quarantined from tunnel vision. I hope we throw open the windows and enjoy the sunshine. I hope we still leave each other love notes in the street with sidewalk chalk and I hope we still say hello to each other as we pass during our walks. I hope we still find this great need to be connected and I hope we notice those connections. As a friend of mine said recently: we may have given each other up for Lent; but we haven’t given up on each other.

            I hope you’re finding ways to connect to people, even if you are at home by yourself. I hope you’ve picked up the phone and called someone, and I hope people have called you. I hope you’ve jumped back into those hobbies and found time for those projects you’ve been meaning to get to. More than anything, I hope you know you’re not alone. I have faith in the power of community, and in the power of the Spirit to sustain our community. 

            What connections have you noticed recently? Are they connections that have always been there or are they new connections? What will it take to notice those connections even after the quarantines?

*Yes, I have an inner-Brit. She has a fantastic accent, though she tends to be super snarky.