Kris and I often talk about how he tends toward "forest" thinking and I toward "trees." That's neither here nor there, bad nor good, it just is. We've both been putting a lot of effort, over the past several years, into balancing that sense of small and big picture thinking within ourselves, and I'd like to think that I'm bettering my ability to simultaneously tend to both the details (micro) and the whole (macro - see, there's another analogy for ya). That said, in the context of this Covid-19 novel coronavirus pandemic, I'm beginning to realize that part of my decently balanced attitude has been owed to my "trees" thinking.
In the short term of this thing, I've been extraordinarily fortunate, both in the arts sector and in general, from some of my education work being able to shift online to much of it being paid even if it doesn't happen (thank you, reasonable education granters). Yes, all of my performance-related work is in an absolute holding pattern right now, but on the (immediate) whole, I'm pretty fortunate.
This has buoyed me, though I've been starting to realize that I need to interrogate this word in parentheses - immediate. A couple days ago, I started doing a little more "forest" thinking, which lead to my consideration that the work I have right now really might not be there in the Fall. Granters could go a different direction. Host organizations may have to shift programming or close all-together. Leads I had with potentially more stable institutions (in my case higher ed) may slip down the drain, as energies in these places may need to be completely put toward digging out and getting back on track, not bringing in guests.
Thinking beyond my work in education and into my work in performance, again, granters may be going in different directions for awhile. Performers might need to take other jobs to get financially stable again. Venues may close. It sure makes it hard to do things like "Apply to grants for Rhythmically Speaking" or "Research potential CHILL venues," as the list I made on Day 1 of our quarantine (32 days ago now) suggests I do to make my time 'productive.' Is false productivity even worth it? Another question I've made a lot of effort in the last 10-some years to consistently ask myself, as a measure of not "doing tasks just to do tasks."
Holding pattern. Before this on my walk, I found myself grabbing video of my feet walking. Shortly thereafter, after my mind got wandering a little better (along with my wandering body, that is), I got thinking about "holding patterns." This was not the first time since this all started that my mind wandered to such a place. It was just the first time it'd done so while I was out walking. The next video I took was of my feet marching in place.
This morning, I allowed my mind to entertain the idea that I might have to be open to work not related to dance after this. I might have to accept that the programming I've been building for Rhythmically Speaking might have to adapt. I might have to get my brain around building a new model for what my professional life looks like.
This is an upsetting thought. It makes me anxious. I have worked SO HARD to build my current model for my professional life. I feel fortunate right now that model does not include lease or ownership of a building.
I'm trying to sit with these feelings of anxiousness, worry. I know that disregarding them or burying them will not help anyone, least of all myself. I also know that fixating on them with not help anyone, least of all myself. There is a balance in there somewhere. I know I'll find it, I just feel fortunate to have not had to seek that balance yet. Up until the last couple days, I'd kept pretty optimistic.
Another aspect of this that causes me anxiety is considering the fragility of the systems that surround me. How fragile is a household that cannot handle an emergency that costs more than $400.00? How fragile is a business that cannot handle a dip in or cut off of business for a month or two? How fragile is the brain that melts down at the very thought of change in pattern?
I don't say any of this to suggest that the household or business or person at hand is at fault. At least not completely. I think our collective status quo (and I'm not sure how far 'our' extends here) has become a pretty fragile one. In finance. In physical health. In mental health. In the health of the environment that surrounds us and we impact. We've been coasting along in a status quo that clearly cannot sustain emergency.
Businesses are shuttering quickly. People of color are being disproportionately medically affected by this virus, not because they are physically more susceptible to it, but because of long-standing health disparities caused by long-standing income and access disparities. People's mental health statuses are quickly careening due to abrupt disconnect from a 'normalcy' that oftentimes was not supporting that aspect of their health to begin with.
The leaves on the shrubs outside my window that I'm peering at right now are shuddering from the cold and the wind. Inside, I'm shuddering a bit too. For different reasons.
And so I sit with the shudder. Not to punish myself, but to allow it to balance my initial reaction of optimism. To feel ALL the feelings, not just some. To allow the cultivation of some sort of equilibrium within this 'new normal.' Even saying that feels passé at this point. But it is what it is. Some things have to be deemed as such to be dealt with.
Equilibrium.
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