How to Ride a Rollercoaster and Survive a Pandemic
“Let everything happen to you
Beauty and Terror
Just keep going
No feeling is final”
I love rollercoasters. Although I hate heights and that initial climb at the beginning of any rollercoaster ride is almost unbearable, I still have a deep and abiding love for them. I grew up in a town outside Vancouver but since my dad was a Vancouver Firefighter and my grandma lived in East Van, Vancouver was my second home. And Vancouver is home to one of the oldest and most terrifyingly awesome rollercoasters. I just did some Google “research” and found out that this particular rollercoaster is considered the best wooden roller coaster in Canada and the 7th in the world. So there you have it.
When my son was just barely the allowed height, he rode The Coaster with me and at one moment I was sure his skinny little body was going to jettison out from under the “protective” bar and into the city skyline. But he didn’t and we have ridden several coasters together since. There is one time, in particular, that sticks out in my memory.
We were at the same Vancouver amusement park but this time we were on the Corkscrew and for some reason, right before we got locked into our seats, I decided that I wasn’t feeling very brave and would keep my eyes shut the entire ride. So as we started chu-chunking up the first incline I held on tight to the padded metal bars on either side of my head and squinched my eyes shut.
All was fine until the twists and turns came. Essentially, my head was bashed back and forth in quick succession between the “padded” metal bars and my neck received a brief snap soon after. By the time I realized that closing my eyes was a bad idea, the ride was almost over. Since I have a pre-existing neck issue from an old injury, I stumbled off the rollercoaster feeling very sore and with the ominous beginnings of a migraine. So dumb. If I had just opened my eyes like a normal person I would have, not just enjoyed the experience, but my body could have prepared and responded to what was happening.
The lesson I learned from this bone-jarring coaster ride has proved helpful many times. Yes, including during a pandemic. Pandemic. The stuff of sci-fi and apocalyptic movies. In a reality, for those of us in developed countries, where we have so much access to everything and an unprecedented amount of freedom, this is mind bendingly surreal. Close your eyes. It will be easier. Don’t think, watch more Netflix, eat fun snacks, drink more. Shut your eyes tight. It will all be over and then we can return to normal, right? Hang on for dear life.
The truth is that over the last six or so weeks, there have been times when I have been doing all of the above. There have been days when I have been insanely productive with cleaning and gardening and cooking and exercising just so I could fall, exhausted, into bed at night. But there have also been many days of movie watching with kettle corn and ice cream or hot chocolate with marshmallows and gin. Not proud moments but there it is. However, I am very thankful that in the early weeks of this pandemic I did remember the rollercoaster lesson. Open my eyes. Engage. Breathe. Take it in. Process. Learn. I’m sure you figured out that the boast in the title: How to Survive a Pandemic is, largely, click bait. I actually have no idea how to survive a pandemic but I did want to share some strategies that have helped me immensely in this strange time.
Keep the media at arms length. Keeping your eyes open does not mean watching every newsfeed nor reading every article that Facebook or Google throw your way. In fact, I believe that limiting your interaction with the media and becoming very selective with what you read or watch will cause you to be informed yet calm. Well, calmer. Of course, each person’s tolerance for ingesting media is unique. For example, my husband can manage reading and watching the news much more than me. And that’s fine. For some reason I used to feel guilty for not having my ear to the ground every waking moment but, thankfully, I read Amusing Ourselves to Death and realized that, for the most part, I was being played by the media spin machine. My psyche breathed a sigh of relief.
Acknowledge the emotions. “I just try not to think about it,” said one of my kids as she blinked hard and looked at the ceiling. Yes. That is a common coping mechanism for most of us but, as I’m sure you have realized by now, ignoring our emotions just means they will come back to bite us in the butt. One of the leading doctors on trauma, Bessel van der Kolk (cool name!) has written a book on the topic called The Body Keeps the Score. I confess, I have only read the first chapter of the book and watched some interviews with Bessel but his research is fascinating. At the core of his research is that ignored trauma, even minor trauma, will manifest itself in various forms. Nothing too new here but a good reminder for me when I do things like spend my day frantically cleaning my house in order to distract myself, only to lie awake into the wee hours with feelings of impending doom over all the things I didn’t process during the day. I’m not talking about navel gazing or psycho-analyzing every passing thought but make sure you make some room in your life to talk through some of your thoughts and to listen to the thoughts of others.
Take time to grieve. This is an offshoot of #2. At the beginning of all this hoopla, I felt like I couldn’t allow myself to be disappointed by my life being cancelled. I became keenly aware of my privilege as I saw how this was impacting others around the world and felt that I didn’t have the right to complain. However, as I started noticing a permanent tightness in my chest and frequent nausea, I remembered...oh right, the body keeps the score. I began to give myself moments to feel the sadness of the things I was losing. My son’s grad postponed and likely cancelled. My daughter’s huge musical theatre production cancelled. My other daughter’s post secondary plans up in the air. A concert cancelled. No church. No weddings. I felt more peace as I mentally raised the flag to half mast and allowed myself some moments to grieve.
Welcome the joy. I was so thankful when I started to hear others guiltily confessing things that they were thankful about this time. I wasn’t alone! But it also made me realize that that isn’t right. While the horrendous impact of this pandemic is before us constantly, we must rejoice in everything that is good; big or small without feeling like we are bragging or tempting fate. Being thankful is imperative all the time but especially when things seem dark.
Don’t waste your suffering. A pastor that I have heard several times over the past few years preached a wonderful sermon once on suffering and how we need to always remember that God has a refining purpose in it if we are willing to yield to it and learn from it. As much as we try to avoid pain and suffering (and should!), it will come. How will we respond? Clench those eyes tight and hang on til it’s over? That will likely only lead to confusion, bitterness, and self-pity. If we see this as an opportunity to learn and grow and be challenged, we will be pleasantly surprised by the changes we see. The pandemic will end. We will go back to jobs and school and restaurants but we, hopefully, won’t go back to normal. That would be such a waste.
God is a refuge. For most of this past year, every time I was reading the bible I took note of each time I saw a passage that described God as our refuge or fortress. I wrote them down on my little cards and meditated on them. It is one thing to meditate on those verses when life feels fairly safe and predictable but now? Wow. The first verse of Psalm 46, “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble” has become so real and precious. At this point, I must emphatically state that without the life-altering work of Christ in my life #1-5 would not have been able to happen. Because I can know God through Jesus Christ, I can “dwell in the shelter of the Most High and abide in the shadow of the Almighty.” (Psalm 91) I can have the courage to open my eyes and look at the hard stuff because He remains close and compassionate and I am safe in His fortress.
A year after the unsuccessful rollercoaster ride, our family returned to Playland. As much as I wanted to play it safe and avoid the potential for more pain, I also wanted to complete the experiment. I rode the Corkscrew with my son and daughter. I kept my eyes open. I did some calming self talk as we went up but still whimpered. I screamed and laughed as we went down. I leaned into the turns. I saw the blue sky as we went upside down. I turned to my kids and saw them laughing. I was fine.
Reasons to be thankful. Exhibit A.
