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The Grand Re-Opening. Sort of…

I made the decision a couple of weeks ago that this would be my week to venture back into teaching guitar. I teach out of my home, so I pretty much had to decide for myself how things might be changed around to allow for the protocols that need to be in place now; physical distancing, keeping everything clean and disinfected, and signage to remind students of everything they needed to do, too.

When you’ve been doing things a certain way for 30 years, it takes a fair amount of brain function to change it up, but I think I’ve figured it out. I’m sure there are a lot of people, especially in smaller businesses, who are doing their best to wrap their heads around this new reality. We’re in different times.

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One of the first things I did was go to the WorkSafe BC website where they have a section called “Returning To Safe Operation” for businesses and facilities opening up, to know what protocols need to be in place. I downloaded some posters to use as signage, I marked out the proper spacing between myself and my students on the floor in the studio. I bought new music stands that are easier to clean, got cleaning supplies ready, and I worked out a plan for students to follow when they arrived back. I even recorded a video to send to them so they could see what changes I was making and would know what to do when they got here.

I emailed them all and sent a link to the video.

So far, so good.

About half of my students have returned, which is more or less what I expected. Some of them would have been in classes of 3 or more, and so far, that’s too many people to have together in my small studio yet. Maybe one day soon.

Some students are more nervous than others, or not ready to return for various reasons. I understand that. It’s been rough for a lot of us.

And some may never return. I’m prepared for that.

I’ve been rescheduling returning students with a little time in between each one so I can clean and disinfect between lessons.

So they come in the door, they sanitize their hands, they leave their guitar cases out in the waiting area, they bring their guitars and music into the studio, they tune on their own or with my help, and we begin to play. Then we start to smile a little as the music kind of lifts us up. We can’t help but share some of our stories in between songs. It’s a little like coming back to life.

I’ve been thinking about all the students, clients and customers that have been returning to different businesses this past week. The conversations they must be having, the laughs (behind face masks in some cases!), the getting back to something that almost feels normal. For small businesses like mine, our clients are not just our source of income, they sometimes become good friends. I’ve been teaching some of my students for 10 or 15 years.

These are relationships we’ve all been missing.

For those of you with small businesses or who are self-employed like me, I’m rootin’ for you. If we do everything as we’re told by those in charge, over time it’ll get better. Even if we have that dreaded second wave, I think we can anticipate what to do, and ride it out.

And thanks to my students who’ve done everything the way I asked them to.

Some of them even practiced a little 🙂

IJ

But Fear Itself

Franklin D. RooseveltCover of Franklin D. RooseveltI saw a cartoon in our local newspaper this morning.  The frame was divided in two;  on one side it had a drawing of the familiar Star Trek ship Enterprise with the words “What we envisioned future travel would look like.”  On the other side, it said “What it’s going to look like.” with a drawing of a plane passenger going through security down to his shorts and a burly female security person yelling “Take off your shorts!!”

Since the events of 9/11, we in the western world have become more and more obsessed with security, imagining that if we build a better body scanner or a higher fence, somehow we will be more protected.  The craziness we have to experience going through security at an airport these days has become ridiculous.  At Laguardia airport on our family’s return trip from New York a couple of years ago, there was a particularly cranky security guy yelling at the passenger ahead of me about his laptop.  I couldn’t understand what the guard was saying, and when it came my turn, he scowled the same thing at me.  I froze, he had a southern accent and my ear just couldn’t grasp the words…my daughter whispered in my ear “He wants you to take the laptop OUT of the bag!”  and I managed to do what he demanded before I got into more trouble.  He scowled again at me as I passed him.  Why should anyone have that kind of miserable power over anyone?  And yet, I wouldn’t have dared confront him…who knows what kind of trouble that would have brought me.

And on my recent return trip from Maui, I was pull out of line by a security officer who wanted to wipe my hands with something.  I realized they were checking for explosives and the wipe was to detect chemicals on my hands.  I guess  he picked me because I didn’t look suspicious enough?  After that it was off with the shoes, remove your outer clothing, walk through the scanner or have someone scan your body with that Star Wars wand.  Or, worse yet, someone will feel you up physically, and by the time you get on the plane, you feel dirty enough to want to take a shower.  And this is all for what?

The truth is that there will never be enough security for some people.  I have a family member who bolts her front door twice, each time she comes in or out, even when she’s just bringing out her garbage.  She cuts her return address off all mailing envelopes she recycles, and tells me I should never get a vanity license plate for my car because “they’ll be able to find you!”  She’s elderly, so I imagine that has a lot to do with it.  But for somebody like that, the world is a scary place and anyone you don’t know could be out to get you.  Maybe I’ll feel the same way when I’m her age, but I hope not.

Maybe part of the problem is that we watch or listen to or read too much news, or we pay too much attention to “experts” who usually have some vested interest in scaring the bejesus out of us.  But ultimately, fear is something we do to ourselves.

The recent earthquake in Japan did a lot to invoke fear, especially for those of us living here on the west coast of North America.  First of all, there was the fear of a tsunami here, although it never really manifested.  Secondly, we watched the same loops of video over and over of the disastrous effects of not only the earthquake, but the resulting tsunami there in Japan, knowing full well it can and will happen here one of these days.  And then it was the fear of radiation spewing from the Fukushima nuclear power plant.  On the local news here, they were interviewing people on the street who had already bought a supply of iodine tablets!  Worrying about the possibility of heightened radiation levels I can understand.  Some of us still have visions and memories of Chernobyl and Three Mile Island.  But to be running about buying iodine tablets, seems to me, another sign of out of control fear and fear mongering.

I understand fear very well.  It is not rational and it can be all consuming.  And we certainly don’t want to stick our heads in the sand when it comes to the realities around us, like madmen who want to kill all westerners and living close to fault lines in the earth’s crust.  But let’s do a little self-check and make sure we are not allowing fear to rule our daily existence.  What is the point and even the usefulness of that?  It simply leads to many nights of sleeplessness and days of bizarre behaviour.

One of the most famous lines came from Franklin D. Roosevelt (and often mistakenly attributed to Churchill) in his first inaugural address is  “So, first of all, let me assert my firm belief that the only thing we have to fear is fear itself—nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror which paralyzes needed efforts to convert retreat into advance”.   And here are some other good and hopeful quotes regarding fear, some of them from those who knew a lot about the topic!

  • Fear is the lengthened shadow of ignorance.  ~Arnold Glasow
  • To fear is one thing.  To let fear grab you by the tail and swing you around is another.  ~Katherine Paterson, Jacob Have I Loved
  • To conquer fear is the beginning of wisdom.  ~Bertrand Russell
  • Fear cannot take what you do not give it.  ~Christopher Coan
  • A cheerful frame of mind, reinforced by relaxation… is the medicine that puts all ghosts of fear on the run.  ~George Matthew Adams  
  • Fear makes the wolf bigger than he is.  ~German Proverb
  • Feed your faith and your fears will starve to death.  ~Author Unknown 
  • You block your dream when you allow your fear to grow bigger than your faith.  ~Mary Manin Morrissey
  • We must build dikes of courage to hold back the flood of fear ~ Martin Luther King, Jr.

So let’s take a little time to remember that we don’t have to allow fear to rule us all day, every day.  Take a moment to be in the “now” and remember everything that is good in your life!

IJ

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Becoming A Caregiver

Older Elderly sister looking down - bangkokImage by Sailing “Footprints: Real to Reel” (Ronn ashore) via FlickrI stood at the door of the men’s washroom in the specialists office yesterday, waiting for my Dad to come out.  We were there for his quarterly checkup, and Dad had to go to the washroom.  It’s not that he can’t go to the washroom by himself.  Actually, it IS that he can’t go to the washroom by himself.  Not at the doctor’s office.  Because every time he comes out the door, he gets lost.  The first time it happened, another man found him wandering down the stairs.  It scared the heck out of me.  So now, every time he has to go, I wait by the door so I can walk back to the waiting area with him.

Yesterday was like any other visit, except for the fact that I suddenly realized how I’ve become somewhat of a caregiver to my parents whenever I am there.  My father is in a care facility because he has Alzheimer’s and my stepmother lives in a townhouse, blind as a bat with a bum heart, a pacemaker, recovering from two broken hips.  I travel over at least once a month to spend two or three days, to help out wherever it is needed.  My sister interacts with them more regularly and deals with more than I do because she lives closer. And between the two of us, we have become their support system.  They have friends who help out as well, but the main part of it is up to the two of us.

It speaks to that reversal of roles that happens once parents become elderly, and I guess the whole transition happened gradually.  But it started to change about six or seven years ago when my stepmother had to have open heart surgery and my father thought she was going to die.  I traveled to the mainland to provide support for my Dad during my stepmother’s surgery and recovery.  He was confused about her condition, and that confusion eventually lead to the diagnosis of dementia, “probably” Alzheimer’s.  My stepmother recovered from her heart surgery, but one thing after another kept happening;  first one broken hip, then the other, then a diagnosis of macular degeneration which slowly blinded her, then a pacemaker, then a hernia operation.  And my father’s dementia was eventually accompanied by kidney disease and prostate cancer.

I found myself going over quite often at first, every two or three weeks as my stepmother recovered.  I kept thinking it was only temporary, but as they both began to struggle through their various physical ailments, I eventually came to realize that traveling there was just going to become part of my routine.  And so it has.

When my father came out of the washroom at the doctor’s office and we sat down in the waiting area, I watched an elderly woman come out of the office and prepare herself to leave the building.  She sat down carefully, placing her cane beside her, and gingerly fingered her purse, looking for the zipper.  It took her awhile to find it, her fingers shaking slightly at the exertion, but when she did, it took her another while to feel and see what she was looking for.  It was a change purse, and she was likely trying to set aside change for the bus.  She had to count through the change several times to make sure she had it right.  Then she began the process of putting her change purse back where she could find it, and slowly zipped up her purse.  When that was finally done, she fumbled for her cane, and eventually was able to lift herself up out of the chair.  Then it was the slow, careful walk to the elevator.

I looked at her and marveled at how much this old woman was doing for herself, how even though it took her so much time and patience, she managed to get herself to and from an appointment in downtown Vancouver.  Who knows how far she had to come and how early in the morning she had to get herself going JUST to GET there.  In the last few years, watching my parents grow older and more dependent on us, I’ve found an appreciation for just how much work it takes to be old. I looked at the elderly lady again and saw myself some day.  I hope.

IJ

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