A friend was talking about having to take a ‘stress test’ as part of a physical exam, and the phrase set off laughter among the group of listeners.
“Oh, a stress test like, getting out of bed in the morning?” We all laughed. “Or looking at your phone?” More laughter. “Or just, you know, listening to the news?” We laughed but it died away quickly. It was too easily tipped over into fear, into anger, into overwhelm.
I’ve been thinking about the pandemic again lately; how stressful that was, but it feels like the other end of the spectrum from what we are living with now. The lack of movement, the sensation of being suspended in time as we awaited the vaccine; these things were still scaffolded by societal norms.
It used to be, way back in the 20th Century, when someone told you they thought that interplanetary aliens were listening to their phone conversations, you would understand that they were having a nervous breakdown. Now, equally plausible ideas are discussed without anyone even suggesting that this is insanity.
It would seem our entire society is having a nervous breakdown.
I was lying awake last night, knowing that someone, someone I don’t know, lost their home in the wildfires, then lost their guaranteed-for-life federal job, then lost all of their savings in the stock market. That it wasn’t me, didn’t feel a whole lot better. I’m hurting for someone I don’t even know.
I know people who are dealing with each of those things. I don’t know anyone dealing with all three. But I know they are out there.
When my father was killed and my family lost everything, almost overnight, that was just my family. There are tens of thousands of people burned out, booted and bankrupted; finding commonality is almost inevitable.
The silver lining on the stress test is that I’m seeing a lot of very ground-level and grassroots good happening. When everyone is dealing with challenge, people reach out with what they have, even if it’s just a moment to listen. The relief that comes from knowing you are not alone is something that can be physically felt. Shoulders drop, hands unclench, breathing evens out.
Small communities regroup and recommit. A text message says “I am here for you.” People ask “How are you?” and then wait for a real answer, something deeper than the etiquette of “Fine.”
I’m knowing a lot of people will get good grades on the current stress test. We do know how to support each other, and even the smallest act of kindness can have large reverberations.
Judith Martin-Straw