On being a dinosaur in a pandemic

An older friend confided in me the other day that she feels like a dinosaur. And I really do mean confided. As we spoke on the phone, she lowered her voice and almost whispered, “Becca, I feel so old and ineffective. I’m not tech-savvy enough for this pandemic.” She finds social media rather bewildering and Zoom meetings distracting. She explained, “I’m having such a hard time focusing! I feel like I’m doing a crappy job.” I reassured her: “We all feel that way.”

No, really. I mean it. We all feel that way. I’ve not spoken to a single friend or colleague who feels that their work is topnotch right now. And how could it be? We are in the midst of a global pandemic, the likes of which the world hasn’t seen in a century. None of us know what the hell we’re doing, but somehow we feel as if we should.

Even just one factor—such as a scary, highly communicable disease spreading across the world—is more than enough to increase anxiety and decrease productivity. But we are all juggling so much. Fears about the health of our friends and family who are at high risk of infection. Worries about how our children will be educated. Disappointment as long anticipated events and programs are canceled. The terror my constituents feel at watching all the money in their bank accounts run out. And the exhaustion they feel as they continue to wait for their unemployment payments to come at all. Also, the federal supplemental payments to the nation’s unemployed run out this week, and Congress can’t agree on next steps.

Oh, and then there’s the frightening narcissist in the White House with his AG lackey—a man who rivals Roy Cohn in his eagerness to serve his master. Shadowy federal police harassing protestors in our cities, and a chilling tweet suggesting we should postpone the 2020 Election. 

And, of course, the toilet paper. Don’t forget all those weeks of worrying if we’d be able to gently wipe our butts. 

And the STUPID, dangerous fight over masks.

And a GOP that, except for a handful of electeds, will not stand up to Trump and his (no longer covert) slide into fascism.

And the painful death of American hero John Lewis.

My goodness! Of course we’re anxious. And sad. And drained. And ineffective.

This blog post has a very simple message. Please be kinder to yourself. And give others you interact with the permission to let go of all the self-judgement. Make the implicit explicit and give voice to the feelings we’re all carrying. There is tremendous relief in naming subtext; it takes away so much of the power it has over us.

And what about that bit about feeling like a dinosaur? Here’s what I told her—and what I also tell myself—as long as she continues to be willing to grow and learn and stretch herself in some uncomfortable ways, she’ll never be a dinosaur.