All I Really Need to Know I Learned During a Pandemic

Nearly 35 years ago, author Robert Fulghum gave us the now well-known book All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten.  In the book he describes how the simple lessons he was taught in kindergarten (share, don’t hit people, take a nap every afternoon, etc) continued to have significance throughout his life.  The subtitle of his book is “Uncommon Thoughts on Common Things.”

I have borrowed Fulghum’s sentiment in giving this reflection the title, “All I Really Need to Know I Learned During a Pandemic.”  If I were to have a subtitle, mine would be “Common Thoughts During Uncommon Times.”

“Uncommon times” is an understatement, isn’t it?  Campuses are empty and are being described as ghost towns.  School buses are running, but the only passengers are the prepared meals that are being delivered to students who need them.  Stores are closing (some temporarily, some permanently).  There is even speculation that there may be no football in the fall.  You know things are bad when that happens.

Of course, the primary thing on our minds is health and safety — of ourselves, our families, our neighbors, and all of the helpers who inspire us each day.  These are uncommon times, for sure.

This situation has been the source of many lessons for me, and I would like to share some of these with you.  Some of my observations are silly and some are serious — but regardless of the circumstances that taught me, the lessons themselves have been profound, at least for me.

In an effort to keep this at a reasonable length, I will share the first several lessons now and save the rest for next week.

So here we go.  During this strange time of quarantines, social distancing, and precautionary living, I have learned …

1. That the first step in a project does not have to be to buy something. When I embark on a new project at home (a repair or improvement of some kind), my first thought is usually “what can I buy to make this work?”  These days, running out to the store isn’t advisable (or even possible in some cases), and so I have been forced to start the process with more creative thinking.  What do I already have that can help with this?  Perhaps that is how I should always start a project.

2. That I will be just fine if my first choices aren’t available. We ran out of my favorite snack recently (KIND bars, if you are interested).  A few weeks ago I would have gone right to the grocery store to remedy this situation.  This being now, that wasn’t possible.  I took a second look in the cabinet and found some other options.  Good stewardship matters.

3. That some things really don’t matter. I don’t like the way my thick hair looks when it gets long and bushy, and I winced when I first realized that I won’t be able to get a haircut for a while.  While this initial reaction is embarrassing to admit, I am glad to report that I am over it now.  In the grand scheme of things, this, of course, is of very little concern.  You may think differently when you see me, but I trust that the sight will be a reminder to you that some things really don’t matter.

4. That some things really do matter. Although I am fortunate to be with my family during this time, there is still a longing to see other people — other family, friends, etc.  I think others are feeling this, too.  I notice this in the first few seconds of every meeting on Zoom.  Eyes light up when each new face appears.  It is good to see and interact with people.  I also notice it when I am out for a walk or a run in the neighborhood.  I’ve noticed an increased number of waves and acknowledgements.  People want to be with people.  That matters.

5. That light can be found in the darkest of times. The children’s television icon, Mr. Rogers, was the source of many profound insights.  Our current situation reminds me of a favorite quotation from him.

“When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, ‘Look for the helpers.  You will always find people who are helping.’ To this day, especially in times of ‘disaster,’ I remember my mother’s words and I am always comforted by realizing that there are still so many helpers—so many caring people in this world.”

Look for the helpers.  They are everywhere — and in the mirror.

Thanks for letting me share these thoughts with you.  I’ll share a few more lessons next week.  To paraphrase Mr. Rogers’s closing song: “I’ll be back, when the week is new, and I’ll have more ideas for you. You’ll have things that you’ll have learned about.  I will, too.”