Disclaimer: Like all of my blogs, this month's blog is about MY experience; I share how I'm managing the pandemic. Because I don’t have children to care for, am not worried about losing a job, etc., I understand that others may be suffering far more than me. Please know that my intention, as always, is to simply tell my story in hopes that it will inspire, not shame, others.
A few nights ago, I went to bed angry about how stupid and selfish Americans can be, packing into restaurants, crowding onto beaches, and cramming into pool parties while COVID-19 cases continue to rise. What were these people thinking, I fumed?
The next morning, however, I woke up realizing that they were NOT thinking; they were reacting (albeit inappropriately) to their perceived loss of normalcy, something the media has done its best to convince us no longer exists. That’s what gains attention; not the majority of Americans who are still, thank goodness, “following the rules.”
As I lay in bed, I enjoyed the fleeting memory of a dream I had just had. I couldn’t recall the details, but I held an image of being surrounded by childhood friends and acquaintances, all sporting grey hair and long since forgotten, but still part of my story. It gave me surprising, but extraordinary, peace. I asked myself what it was about being with these people that was so comforting, and I realized that they made my life feel normal, something I haven’t felt since the pandemic began, and it was blissful.
Not wanting the feeling to end, I allowed myself a few more minutes in bed. Then, I had an epiphany. I realized that, other than having to wash my hands more regularly, stand 6’ away from people, and wear a mask in public—something that’s customary in other countries—most of my life WAS still normal; I’d just stopped noticing.
It always comes back to perspective. We can focus on what’s different about our life, or we can focus on what’s still the same.
One thing that everyone reading this probably has in common is a love for making art, or, at least, appreciating the process or results of it. For most of us, that and our friends and family are what ground us; what give us comfort and assure us that all is well; what make our lives feel normal.
That opportunity hasn’t changed, even if the options for doing so have. Want to see or hear some art? You can tour a gallery or hear a concert online. (If you’re interested in Asheville’s arts scene, in particular, check out Asheville Today’s How to experience Asheville, N.C.’s Arts Scene Virtually.) Want to learn how something is made? You can read a book, watch a YouTube video, or take an online workshop. (Purple Crayon has several coming up!) Want to make art yourself? Your home studio is waiting, or, if you’re local, Purple Crayon is reopening this month with added safety precautions.
Undoubtedly, life has changed, and, for some unfortunate souls, irreparably. For many of us, though, it hasn’t changed that much. I encourage you to focus on what still IS rather than dwelling on what isn’t. There’s a lot in this world that we can’t control; our perspective is something we can.
I look forward to creating with you!
—Pam Robbins, Owner
