My epiphany came on a winter day when I was feeling sorry for myself. I call those kinds of days “fat slug days” because during the cold weather, I slowly slither along in my sun-deprived paleness, lugging around extra pounds from eating too much comfort food. On that particular day, I focused on the aging process and how the elderly diminish and wither as they sit home or in nursing homes with their TVs and blurring memories. Sorrow is small, I concluded. And then I thought a little more. So, if sadness is a state of contraction, then joy is expansive. Joy is the outdoors, music, art, dancing, and belly laughs. Joy is big! And that is why I travel, to experience the elation of the big, wide world.

Today I’m 71 and in my twenty-fifth day of “social isolation”. The media makes it clear, over and over again, that I’m in the risk category. I just spent a year saving money for an 80-day solo road trip through the American South. It isn’t going to happen. I can’t go now.

The first few days alone were a bit exciting as I prepared my nest, getting organized and doing some problem-solving. I busied myself, alternating meaningful chores with watching news about the virus. I thought about topics for my blog and all the projects I would do now that I had extra time.

Day three brought a shock as President Trump stated he thought things would be up in the air until July or August. What? I knew I could do 6 weeks because I had done that while my broken ankle was mending. But anything beyond that I just couldn’t imagine. I contracted, stayed in my pajamas, and watched the terrible news all day. I knew things were bad when I gobbled down double my daily allowance of my homemade muffins. I was sad, and I felt small. Writing always makes me feel better, but I shrank in doubt. My nagging inner critique suddenly appeared, and it shouted me down.

The next day I went immediately to my chair and the TV but luckily there was a bit of light mixed in among all the doom and gloom. An author talked about his experience with social distancing, how he lost his retirement funds in the evaporating stock market, how he couldn’t sleep with his wife anymore because she was a health worker on constant call, and how his college-age son was now back home in a state of aimless depression. Then he added more gloom. He pointed out that, due to the pandemic and its significant impact on the global economy, there is a strong likelihood that we may never return to our pre-pandemic lifestyle. We have to face that because of circumstances beyond our control, we need to prepare to cross over to something entirely new. As I listened to him, I knew what he was saying was true. I held my breath, hoping he would say something positive. I waited for some sort of “it is bad but” redemption.

It came in his simple words, “We have to step up!” He stated that we will all be faced with a new way of living and will be called upon to make things better by the quality of our individual ways of adapting. We can’t just sit in front of our screens; we must act. I need to act. I have so many things I can do in my isolation. I have a house to organize, along with drawers and closets to weed out. I can write on my blog, paint, read, learn new skills (YouTube can be my school), connect with people on Facebook, research local history, and so much more.

The world situation pulls on me. It wants me to become small. I can feel it as the hours pass. I don’t want to be diminished.

I’m making lists. How crafty my brain is as it makes me forget about the possibilities that excite me.

I’m working on my immune system. ( Youtube, Dr. Eric Berg-“Coronavirus Resistance-Beyond Healthy Eating”) Dr. Berg states that stress is immunosuppressive. Like the author I previously mentioned, he advises us to stay in action, to be productive. He recommends limiting news consumption, taking walks, and working constantly to create our own health.

I’m going to devise a daily schedule for myself. I fluctuate between being productive and wasting a lot of time. I knew, when I taught 7 and 8-year-olds, that structure and having a plan were essential. I also knew that varying activities kept attention and engagement alive. I guess this retired teacher will be using proven educational tricks on herself.

I’m back to writing. For some reason, I have to write; it keeps me smiling. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate the connection I have with those of you who read my stuff. Thank you so very much.

Joy is big; it is expansive. It has nothing to do with time and space. It is about taking action, moving forward, and never becoming small. Every day in our minds, hearts, and souls, it can grow bigger and bigger. We all need to keep joy alive.