Have you noticed how email etiquette has changed over the past month?
Before the world was taken by surprise by a virus, we would start our emails with “hope you are well” and conclude them with “best regards.” Relegated to mere pleasantries, these phrases added a level of decorum to the casual work communique.
And then one day, in early March, I email a good friend who is also a doctor. Emails from every imaginable business and organization titled “Important Coronavirus Information” or “Update on COVID-19” were yet to become a daily occurrence, and the seriousness of the situation was still overshadowed by the ongoing life as usual.
I start the email with the same nicety. Within a few minutes, the reply pops up on my phone, politely opening with lines to the effect of “given the situation, you probably understand the hell we’re going through.” Actually, no, before reading those lines, I confess that I did not understand the hell that healthcare professionals were going through, and my friend was cool enough to not give me heat for this, but instead to help me see what is happening.
It was at that exact moment that I acknowledge the storm we are about to hit, that attending the meeting scheduled for Monday is, actually, not ok, and that the hit-song memes about the coronavirus are suddenly not funny anymore.
Changes in widespread public sentiment follow on the heels of this realization in the coming days. The daily debriefs at half past noon by the L.A. County echo to our ears like the tolls of bells, striking a chord for each human lost and with each strike dampening our lofty bravado that, as if, this will never-ever get to us.
“There will be mass deaths, and among them people you know.” The sobering words by the mayor of the city reached many. I heard them on the radio. Others on television, yet others on their phones, and others still from the retellings of their friends who heard it live.
It is hard. With COVID-19 in our media, in our minds, in our homes and in our phones at every moment, living on the lips of governments and newscasters and friends, with all the lockdowns and shutdowns, the states of emergency declared by states in emergency…
It is very hard.
To keep calm. To not panic. To not whine about losing one’s mind or complain about the mundane. To be cautious of others but also cautious for others. To remain socially distant but personally connected. To not let the walls of our homes turn into bricks for our hearts.
I catch myself on these thoughts often. The world today, on April 6, is radically different than it was on March 6. To say several people are facing hardships would be an understatement, and the thought of keeping calm a romantic illusion. But with all the difficulty and sorrow that surround us…
Let us continue to be human.
Let us indeed not complain that we cannot go out as much as we’d like, let us not turn our backs – even if only in our thoughts – against the people we share a roof with, as if they’re “unbearable.” Let us not lament the ruthless and sudden uncertainty that befell us, as if it’s the worst thing that could have happened to us. And if we wish one another to be safe and sane, let’s truly appreciate the value of sanity, and respect what it takes to lose it – possibly being stranded on an island for months… alone… and not being forced to share a meal with someone whom you share your name with.
And if we must stand in line to enter the store, even if it takes a half-hour more, and if we have to pick up a cart of eggs with hesitation, disturbed by the prospect of someone having handled it first, and if we feel imprisoned in the space we call home, let’s catch our breaths before we speak these complaints, for they are luxuries for people who do not have the means to visit a store, or who cannot pick up a loaf of bread, or those who cannot open the door and step out of their room… because instead of a door, they face a cage. And they, too, like you, are not immune from the virus.
My email etiquette has changed as well. My fingers hasten to bid the reader health and safety right after typing their name, and the “best regards” sign-off has been substituted by an emphatic “stay well!” But on top of this, wherever I can, I wish my reader that he and his loved ones will have peace of mind.
For our mind is where all begins.
Chronicles 