I know you’re probably sick of all things virus, maybe (probably) overwhelmed by what’s happening in the world right now. If reading one more email will send you into an anxious spiral, maybe take a walk instead of reading this! But if you hang in with me, we’ll try to focus on the positive and the actionable, as always.
The bad news, of course, is that we have a pandemic. But there’s also some good news: we’re seeing what it looks like to put collective well-being first and take bold measures to protect or assist those who are physically and/or economically vulnerable. Here in Canada, we’re seeing a potent mix of social policy, responsible business management, and individual acts of care, and most of the time I’m optimistic we’re going to crush the curve.
Yes, toilet paper is apparently a luxury good, and it’s alarming to see grocery store shelves empty, but there are also people giving to food banks, checking on their neighbours, running errands for strangers, taking care of children, subsidizing lost income, and a thousand other small but mighty acts. Fitness studios and instructors are offering free classes online. Stores and restaurants are closing their doors to put people before the bottom line.
It’s easy to get sucked into the panic vortex as the news coverage roars on, we’re shaken from our routines, we’re separated from our communities, and some of our institutions and services turn off their lights and shut their doors. But I also see the warm glow of a nation of open windows. I’m following Mr. Rogers’s advice to “look for the helpers.”
Of course I’m also thinking about climate change. And not because emissions are dropping (celebrating lower emissions at the cost of people’s lives is ecofacism and very uncool). I’m thinking about climate change because there are so many relevant lessons here. I see a reminder of our interconnectedness, of the hollowness of borders, of our vulnerability to invisible threats. But I also see our tremendous capacity for self-sacrifice, for coordinated action, for international cooperation, for dramatic change.
A lot of climate writers point to World War II as the last time many nations and their citizens united in the face of a major threat. In Jonathan Safran Foer’s We Are the Weather, he describes the blackouts along the American coast to protect ships from German U-boats. But the blackouts spread across the nation and were embraced even in areas that were completely landlocked. It prompted solidarity and encouraged those far from the conflict to feel the sense of emergency. Foer writes, “On the home front, Americans needed a reminder that life as they knew it could be destroyed, and darkness was one way to illuminate that threat.”
In this wartime mentality, Americans stepped up: industrial capacity increased 96%; retirees, women, and teenagers went to work; companies making commodities pivoted to wartime goods; taxation increased; farmers grew more food and citizens grew victory gardens; recycling and reusing skyrocketed; rationing of gasoline, meat, and luxury goods was normalized. In short: everyday Americans were kicking ass and taking names.
Foer quotes President Roosevelt’s address to Americans in 1942, and I think it’s worth reproducing here:
Not all of us can have the privilege of fighting our enemies in distant parts of the world.
Not all of us can have the privilege of working in a munitions factory or a shipyard, or on the farms or in oil fields or mines, producing the weapons or the raw materials that are needed by our armed forces.
But there is one front and one battle where everyone in the United States — every man, woman, and child — is in action, and will be privileged to remain in action throughout this war. That front is right here at home, in our daily lives, and in our daily tasks. Here at home everyone will have the privilege of making whatever self-denial is necessary, not only to supply our fighting men, but to keep the economic structure of our country fortified and secure during the war and after the war.
This will require, of course, the abandonment not only of luxuries but of many other creature comforts.
Every loyal American is aware of his individual responsibility. . . . As I told the Congress yesterday, “sacrifice” is not exactly the proper word with which to describe this program of self-denial. When, at the end of this great struggle, we shall have saved our free way of life, we shall have made no “sacrifice.”
With today’s preventative measures, we may not be saving a “free way of life,” but we are saving lives, full stop.
That’s meaning a lot of hard choices, and economic hardship for many. But some of the things we’re doing are surprisingly easy. Doing what’s right, helping out fellow humans feels surprisingly good, even when it means giving up things we love, like trips or concerts or even visiting the library or the pool. Hard things aren’t always bad things, as anyone who’s survived a tough workout can attest. These are the things that make you stronger. And we’re doing them, and doing them together.
We don’t know how long regular life is cancelled, but in the meantime, I know we’re all looking for things to keep us from compulsively scrolling the news. And as an introvert who loves nothing more than a project, I’ve got you. Here’s a quick list of ten things you can do while you social distance like lives depend on it (because they do). Most of these activities are also (conveniently) Earth-friendly, because I always have a not-so-hidden agenda.
1. Do some so-so sewing and knitting
Even if your skills aren’t stellar, grab some scrap fabric or old clothes that are too worn even for PJs. Transform them into handkerchiefs or maybe reusable makeup rounds. You could tackle that backed-up mending pile. Or if you have yarn bits and bobs around, knit up a reusable dishcloth or two. For bonus points (and added distraction), do this while taking in a feel good eco-documentary (they do exist), like The Biggest Little Farm, currently on Netflix.
2. Make a meal plan
There’s never been a better time to shop the pantry and figure out how you can cook with what you have. This will not only save food, the environment, and brain vexation, it’ll limit your trips to the store, reducing evil vectoring. But hang onto this habit post-pandemic to have a huge eco impact and make your life simpler. There are more tips on meal planning and using up food scraps in this edition of the newsy.
3. Get cooking
As we try to stay out of restaurants and some of us have a bit more time (or a few more bored children) on our hands, it’s a great time to pull up all those bookmarked recipes and find something you’ve been meaning to try. You could batch cook and freeze single portions for future lunches (one of my top life hacks), bake a batch of muffins, or freeze dough balls to be baked up into delicious cookies on the fly (or stress eaten later — no judgment). Not only is this cooking satisfying, distracting, and delicious, it means you won’t have to rely on convenience items when life goes back to normal.
4. Ferment something
Fermenting seems scary (and maybe sounds kinda gross?), but it’s actually pretty easy and supposedly good for your immune system. While you’re spending a lot of time at home, it’s a great time to start a science experiment: try making apple scrap vinegar, sauerkraut, or maybe ginger-bug or strawberry soda.
5. Ride a bike
The weather has mellowed a bit and the streets (at least in Toronto) are as empty as they’ll ever be. Even if you’re new to cycling, it’s the perfect time to find the right routes and build up some confidence (which is 90% of urban cycling) so you can spend more time on two wheels when we all are spoiled for places to visit again. Cycling will also give you some mood-boosting exercise and some fresh air, while conveniently keeping you more than one metre from other humans.
6. Go for a walk (and pick up some trash)
As our snowbanks receded, they’ve left the predictable flotsam and jetsam of trash. Take in some fresh air and sunshine, and bring a trash bag and some gloves with you. (You can also pick up trash while jogging — it’s called plogging and no I did not make that up.) I cleaned up my yard yesterday, and it gave me a real boost.
7. Get growing
It’s the time of year to push tiny seeds into soil, which is one of the most hopeful and nourishing acts I know of. If you have a south-facing window you could start some tomato seeds (Gayla Trail has great seed starting resources here), or maybe try winter sowing outside. You could also pop some arugula, spinach, peas, or radish seeds into the soil in the next week or two. No outdoor space? Try propagating an existing houseplant, or some home sprouting (which is a good project for kids).
8. Read a book
Libraries may be closed, but your books don’t have to be. Support an indie bookseller who is still making books available, for pickup (like my fave, Queen Books — call to order) or for free local delivery, tackle your TBR pile, or borrow an ebook or digital audiobook from the library. (Hot tip: the Libby app lets you listen to audiobooks for free on your phone.) For inspiring eco/activist reads that don’t just pile on the gloom, try Animal Vegetable Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver (perfect for springtime), Drawdown by Paul Hawken, or Hope in the Dark by Rebecca Solnit.
9. Phone a friend
Remember when we used to just . . . call people? And it wasn’t weird? Bring it back like the scrunchies of my youth, though maybe text before you phone so they don’t think something terrible has happened. Social distance doesn’t have to mean social isolation, and it’s almost as good as an in-person catch-up.
10. Give a little
Community care can be self-care, and some of it can even happen whilst isolating yourself.
Donate money to a local relief organization doing that’s working double-time right now. (The Stop and Foodshare are both great options in Toronto.)
At Metro, you can add food bank donations to online grocery shopping orders.
Buy a gift card to local businesses to help them pay the rent this month.
If you have extra packaged food or other vital supplies, offer them up on a community FB group and leave them on your porch.
Volunteer to run errands for those who are quarantining. (If you’re isolating yourself, you can still draft a sample letter, coordinate volunteers, etc. My hood is running a slick Google sheet at the moment.)
Even after this crisis has passed, I hope we can apply some of this Big Pandemic Energy to the global threat that’s even less visible and more deadly. Let’s keep looking out for each other and for our world. Let’s invest in resilient communities, in strong social policy. Let’s consider what we can give up and what we can give.
Times of unrest can also be times of rediscovery and even revolution. Let’s look for good, create good, and see what kind of future we can build.
Wins of the Week
“Simple awareness is the seed of responsibility.” — Jenny Odell, How to Do Nothing
Laura and Emily started a group in Nelson, BC, that upcycles fabrics into reusable produce bags. (You can find other people doing this, and maybe register your own chapter, on the Zero Waste Chef’s map!)
Instead of loot bags (aka bags of kid pre-garbage), Krista had the littles who were celebrating her three-year-old’s birthday decorate paper crowns, which then could be recycled! (Pre-pandemic, don’t worry.)
Jessica’s switched to reusable makeup rounds and to microfibre cloths for cleaning!
If you like this section, please send me your wins, no matter how small! All steps are good steps, and in challenging times, we need reminders of all the positive things that are still happening.
Take care of yourselves out there, take care of your best beloveds, and take care of strangers too. The snowdrops have emerged, and if that’s not a symbol of joy and beauty and perseverance in hard times, I don’t know what is.
xo JK