Extraordinary Times

These are, truly, extraordinary times.

It really hit me last week, when I got to applaud for doctors and nurses in Paris.

I was on an online meeting, you see, with about forty people from all around the world. One of the woman was calling in from France, and as she talked, suddenly we heard the sound of applause. "What's happening?" someone asked. "Well, you see, it's 8:00 here in Paris, and we are clapping for our doctors and nurses." And as one, all of us in the meeting, brought together from all across the world as a grid of faces on a laptop screen, began to clap, too. I got to applaud, in real time, for people working to save lives in Paris. It was a moment I'll never forget.

Extraordinary times.

In the course of just a few months our world has been upended. We turned a corner in the road and found ourselves picking our way up a mountain, building bridges across canyons as we go. A hard road, to be sure, with each of us carrying a heavy load, some facing loss of jobs and livelihood, others grieving the death of loved ones, and all of us facing an uncertain future.

But if you look closely, you'll see an amazing thing: this crisis has brought out more in us than we ever might have thought possible.

You've seen it, too, haven't you?

We've seen heroism in the bruised, exhausted faces of doctors and nurses, struggling to keep their patients alive in overwhelmed hospitals.

We've heard the sound of applause from people standing at windows, and neighbors singing from balconies to encourage one another.

We've seen ingenuity in teachers working hard to help their students learn from home, and in the parents guiding their children through this crisis.

We've seen wonderful creativity: art shining in sidewalk chalk drawings, music rising from basement studios, holiday lights on houses and weddings in parking lots.

We've seen scientists around the world sharing information with one another, working together in entirely new ways to fight the virus and save lives.

We've finally come to see that our neighbors who work in the grocery stores and deliver the mail and collect the trash are the ones who really hold our society together. And we've watched as they've gone on doing their jobs, day after day, even at the risk of their lives.

We have seen countless acts of compassion: restaurants forced to close that are making meals to give to people in need, people sewing face masks and buying groceries for elderly neighbors, factories changing their machines to help make medical supplies.

In this crisis, we're all being pushed to grow. From the hilarious to the heroic, the large and the small, we're finding ways to be more and to do more than we ever knew we could.

In these extraordinary times, I encourage us all to recognize that we're each doing incredible things, every day.

Think of it: would you have thought, just a few months ago, that you could have endured weeks of isolation at home to keep your community safe? Or that you and your family could learn how to stay home together for weeks on end? That you could learn to work at home? Get comfortable with staying close to your loved ones over a computer screen?

Three months ago, if someone had told me that soon I'd be sitting in an online meeting, applauding for doctors and nurses in France, I would have never believed it. But these are extraordinary times, and we're all doing things we never imagined we could.

So when you get up tomorrow, facing one more day at home, remind yourself of how far you've come.

Be gentle with yourself and the people in your life, because they're climbing that path, too. And then take up your load and set out for another day - and if you come to another ravine, go ahead and throw another rope across. You can do this. You're doing it already.