Taxes are done. The world might be falling apart, but the government will get my money on April 15 (or at least will know it’s coming). I’m doing my bit to jumpstart the economy again, once this virus is history. Is there consolation in that tiny bit of normalcy?

I put away all the tax stuff and walked from my office, at the far end of the house, down the long hallway toward the kitchen, where I’d left my cell phone. As I approached, I heard its faint music, above the music from the radio.

My heart stirred! I quickened my pace. Broke into a run. Someone was calling! Calling me! For a minute, maybe a few, I wouldn’t be alone.

Being alone is our new normal, at least for a while. Shelter in place. Self-quarantine. Safe distance. 6 feet. 2 meters. No gatherings of more than 2 people.

I’ve lived alone for a long time. I’m single, I travel a lot, and most of my friends are at a distance. My kids live 600 miles away, my brother & cousins even farther. It’s a big world. I know alone. I do it well.

This is different.

Normally, when it’s business as usual, I get lots of calls every day. Book business. Cold calls. Requests for money, in one form or other. Occasionally, one of my kids, or a friend. I don’t run for any of them. So why did my pulse, and my pace, quicken when I heard my phone this afternoon?

This kind of alone is different. We all feel it. This one implies that it might be forever, maybe not for us, but for some of us. And that things will be different, after.

And we all have to make our peace with that.

My piano has gotten lots of use this week! As have my running shoes and the hang-board in the garage.

And my keyboard!

Imagination can be a terrible thing! Before I started climbing, I used to wonder what my son was up to, ‘out there,’ when he went on a climbing expedition somewhere in the world. What was his world like? What kind of risks was he taking? But doing it myself has calmed that overactive beast in my head. Knowing helps. Knowing keeps the fear at bay. But right now, we don’t know. That’s the hard part. We don’t know.

What have you been doing to cope? What gets you through living at home? Not being able to hug your kids, who are far away? Who are you hunkering down with? What tips can you share about how to tame the worry beast, the fear, the imagination.

Sharing, here, is almost like being together. And together, we’ll do just fine.

(Please share this site with anyone you know who might need or want to share with us, or us with them.)