CRISIS HAS SILVER LININGS
Many have learned to be grateful for what they have
For some, it is impossible to move beyond the uncertainty and despair wrought by COVID-19. Others, however, have found silver linings in the pandemic’s dark cloud. Sure, they’re anxious. But with the world on pause, they have discerned a new, if different, normal.
“I learned to find things that I am grateful for, and that is something very spiritual — living our gratitude even when things are hard,” said Rev. Ellie Hummel, an ordained minister in the United Church of Canada, Concordia University chaplain and coordinator of the university’s Multi-faith and Spirituality Centre.
“I am not grateful for COVID. But I am grateful for my home, I’m grateful for my spouse, grateful for health-care workers. There is a silver lining around finding gratitude when things are challenging, re-evaluating our priorities and remembering what is important in life.”
One perk is that a commute that’s usually an hour is now a walk from the bedroom to the spare bedroom of her West Island home. There’s more time for gardening, knitting, baking. “I have made my first cinnamon buns and sourdough,” Hummel said.
The baked goods are shared with neighbours — and that’s another perk: “Getting to know the neighbours better.”
Work meetings with colleagues and students via the Zoom teleconferencing tool mean “I am so ‘Zoomed out’ at the end of the day — but I can’t imagine going through this 10 years ago,” Hummel said.
Grateful as she is for technology, though, she misses face-to-face encounters with students.
“I don’t want to make COVID bigger than it is, but it points to the importance of community. It tells us how important it is to touch, to hug each other — and how much that nourishes us.”
Montrealer Jon Reider considers himself a “glass-half-full kind of guy” and said the pandemic has given him “an appreciation of our resilience, our spirit, our ability to care.”
But for him, that’s not a silver lining, “given all the hurt and despair and how so many are suffering.”
“We are fortunate that we are well. It has forced us to slow down. It’s nice not to sit in traffic. But I’d rather sit in traffic and be able to hug my granddaughter,” said Reider, founder of a bereavement camp for children.
“I look at the Saturday Gazette and see six pages of obituaries. Nothing is worth that.”
To psychotherapist Moira Luce of Montreal’s Argyle Institute, the pandemic’s gifts are not obvious — but they do exist.
One is the gift of less distraction — having time to consider what needs attention in your life, whether it’s your health and emotional well-being or your family’s. Couples who have relationship issues are being forced to come to terms with them. “They can’t go to the gym or out with friends.”
Some tell her of reconnecting with partners or children — of conversations “we never would have had.”
Another gift is that of being present — mindful of our daily activities in a way most of us generally aren’t, Luce said. As anyone who has meditated knows, being in the present is one way to calm yourself. We’re more aware of how we’re making our way in the world — anyone who shops for groceries is doubtless doing it more mindfully — and that’s a good thing.
Any other year, Marcy Stein would be busy in the garden. “I love getting my hands dirty,” said the retired high-school teacher. But she and her husband have been sheltering in place since March, and made no sizable plant or flower purchases.
One afternoon a few weeks ago, they drove by an open-air market and stopped for a few tomato, zucchini and herb plants, and flats of double impatiens. “I was in and out of there so fast,” she said.
“But having those plants made me happy — and I am extraordinarily grateful for that.”
As part of a grassroots program run by volunteers with the city of Côte-st-luc, Stein takes grocery orders by phone from a dozen or so isolated seniors; some hear from nobody else.
“I feel like I’m actually doing something,” she said. “There’s nothing like helping someone else to make you feel better.”
Lise Gallant and her husband have been preparing meals they drop off with some of the older people in their lives so they know the couple are thinking of them.
For the Montreal artist, one upside of the world being on pause is having the time for creative pursuits. Gallant started to illustrate a children’s book and launched an Instagram account (@lucy_and_ tyson) to track, through whimsical illustrations, the adventures of her dog, Lucy, and her cat, Tyson.
When Montreal artist and writer Susan Semenak and her husband returned in March from a family visit to England, it was to a 14-day quarantine. “As a way of calming myself and giving structure to my day,” she created a work of art on each day of the quarantine and posted it on social media.
An enthusiastic response from followers led her to expand on the idea: She creates a series of pieces, mostly mosaics, and posts them every Wednesday on Instagram (@ssemenak) and Facebook to help people “stay connected to things that are joyful and beautiful.” The works are for sale — often they sell out within minutes — and throughout April and May, Semenak donated 25 per cent of sales to a different Montreal-area charitable organization each week.
“The human soul needs light. When I am pulled by the colour and shine of these mosaics, I am pulled toward joy,” she said. “I can feel real pain for people who are old and alone and for the frontline workers who put themselves at risk, and still feel a little thrill at the snowdrops that came up out of the snow.”
Those flowers, like the honking of geese flying north and the chirping of birds at dawn, became for Semenak the pandemic’s silver lining, especially at the beginning
In any disaster, it’s important to grab on to things that feel “a bit hopeful, a bit optimistic,” Montreal clinical psychologist Dr. Mara Riff said.
“But, personally, I don’t see a silver lining. Most of my clients are frustrated; they’re exhausted. It’s difficult to juggle working from home when that isn’t what you’re used to; they didn’t sign on for home-schooling their kids.”
Over the past weeks, she has noted an increase in new referrals.
“I think people who enjoy being alone are making the best of this,” said Riff, director of the Openspace Clinic wellness centre. “But I have plenty of clients who live alone and don’t have a big social network, and it’s really hard for them.”
As a grief, loss and bereavement specialist, Montreal counsellor and psychotherapist Corrie Sirota can relate many people’s pandemic responses to a grief process — complete with well-described stages, including anger (what do you mean prom is cancelled?) and sadness (people are dying).
One stage in the process is acceptance — and in it, there is a measure of control: “What can I do? Wash my hands. I am doing online fitness classes, because that is what I can do.” Sirota can work virtually from home. Shop for groceries and cook more creatively, with family dinners featuring dishes like eggplant rollatini and zucchini pie.
Gratitude is a fixture in Sirota’s life. A Post-it note taped to her bathroom mirror reads: “My family; my health; my friends; my clients. And it reminds me every morning that these are the things I am grateful for.”