Turning off the Extrovert In Me

 This pandemic has been hard on everyone. Every household is dealing with this in one way or another. Some families lost loved ones and the goodbyes were via their nurses. Some families are being evicted and lost their jobs with three children in their hands. Some can work from home. Some are risking their lives to take care of the rest of us. 

The time at home has been a blessing in disguise for me but now everyday is about survival. Wake up to our morning coffee. Log into our work zones (one minute commute up the stairs). Breakfast. Lunch. Dinner. Toddler business and laundry in between. The sun rises and sets, with no concept of time in those twelve hours.

I don’t watch a lot of broadcasted television but when I do it’s all about ‘coming together’ or ‘staying in contact while staying apart.’ So how did I come to do less of that? Or rather, why? 

The Rush of Switching Routines 

The spring was about the transition. There was one Wednesday afternoon (March 11), I left the office to head home and haven’t been back since. At first, it was keeping our essential, medical manufacturing line running as our global suppliers started to shut down, one by one. From 6am-6pm, I sat in front of my laptop, verifying every part and putting out every little spark so it wouldn’t turn into a fire. 

My daughter was great then. Being home from daycare, with grandma and grandpa, knowing mommy and daddy were just upstairs, she was occupied and happy. I’d check on her during my water breaks and we started our evening walks and enjoyed the lack of 30 mile commute. 

Then the day would repeat. And repeat again, until things smoothed into our new norm. 

The Summer Heat 

In Phoenix, summer temperatures can reach above 110 as early as May. Not only are you stuck at home all day, only allowed to go on essential errands, it’s now above 100 and not as safe to face the sun. 

The days naturally became longer and with our swimming pool in perfect condition, our afternoon walks turned into afternoon swims. And with good timing. My daughter now asks to go to back to school. She asks to have her friends over to swim or play. She kept asking about the mall, library, and the park with my given answer being “when the world opens.” 

My work days have a new routine but my daughter wants nothing of it. She’ll rip my headset off, throw my phone or shut my monitor off for attention. I’d plan my meetings around her tantrums or take her for a drive to impose nap time. 

Any moment away from work was dedicated to playing and conversing with her. Of course giving the attention a toddler needs, especially during an uncertain time, was another full-time job. We talked. We learned about feelings. We learned about germs. Some ask how I’d hold up a conversation with a 3.5 year old and my answer was to listen and read what she wasn’t saying. 

The Realization 

On a Friday afternoon, I had to call a work friend about a supplier. As soon as my peer heard my voice, she immediately asked what was wrong. I told her some days were better than others and this ‘quarantine’ had been rough. She asked if I see anyone or talk to anyone and my answer was “I don’t feel like it.” 

My peer has known me for almost eight years. Of the 800 people or so at work, I’m known for being one of the expressive ones. For me to say that I didn’t feel like talking, was definitely a red flag. 

I even told her about the time I took my father-in-law go his doctor appointment and how I dismissed small talk in the elevator with this older lady. Me? Me dismiss small talk? In that 30 second ride, I would’ve learned what doctor she saw and which soap opera she was heading home to watch. But instead, I kindly nodded my head to her comments. 

Subconsciously, the idea of social distancing made me shut everyone out. Do they have Covid? Why aren’t they wearing their mask right? Did I wash my hands enough today? 

That phone call woke me up. Since then, I try to connect with people and started taking my daughter to the park. I realized the pandemic isn’t going anywhere and aside from our flu shot, there was no other vaccine on the docket. I had to break out of my shell while keeping as safe as possible. I kept telling myself this was the new norm but this shouldn’t be the new me. 

The situation has impacted people on so many different levels. You may be the one to watch the news and be blessed for not being affected. At the same time, there may have been an underlying effect on you, you don’t even realize yet.

Our world is the way it is through the many different cultures that exist. Over 7 billion people reside here. We weren’t made to be secluded to less than 10. 

Whether you’re an extrovert or an introvert, we were born and raised to connect. To collaborate. To laugh in each other’s presence or cry in each other’s shoulders. 

Please learn to do that safely, without shutting our lovely world out. 

What Ramadan Means, This Year

Today I sat down to break fast. After the evening prayer to call, I took a long sip of water from my bottle not wanting to stop. 

My husband acknowledged my sacrifice and made a few comments. Without thinking, I said ‘what we have is a blessing and now more than ever we shouldn’t take it for granted.’ 

There has been a lot of medical advice about whether or not to fast with COVID-19 in the air. But just like any other hot summer day, I vowed to fast until I couldn’t.

Muslims fast to give sacrifice and to be cognizant of what we have that others don’t. It’s a time to not just refrain from food or water but to also refrain from negative activities, thoughts and comments. And putting religion aside, it is critical now more than ever to do this. 

Loss of Accessibility 

It’s hard to believe I’ve been home for six weeks. The last time I stayed home ‘this long’ was when I took maternity leave. Nonetheless, not even six weeks ago, I could jump in the car and head to Starbucks for a drink or grab something from the market to keep Ghonia happy. During Ramadan, we do not eat or drink from dawn to dusk and the concept of ‘just going to grab a bite to eat’ is diminished. Children, by the way, are exempt until they hit the age of puberty. Pregnant/Nursing women or those are sick or on travel are also exempt. 

What I’ve learned is that we have plenty. I was scolded by my three year old for not having playdo in the house. I didn’t give in to her screams or tears. I didn’t order something on amazon nor did I run out. 

Rather I looked at what we had and decided to make it at home. It became a fun experiment and she enjoyed it even more, knowing that she picked the color and kneaded it with mama. 

Loss of Interaction 

As an extrovert, I was in denial for the first couple of weeks of quarantine. I was so focused on tasks to keep our worksite going, I didn’t have time to lull in what was happening. But now things are quieter. And Ramadan couldn’t have come at a better time. 

I fill my day with prayers or extra interaction with my daughter, Ghonia. I try to think before I speak (which is still quite hard for me) and I focus on the important aspects of our life. 

As I mentioned earlier, it’s not just the physical fast. You become an embodiment of sacrifice and humility. You learn to disengage in certain activities or even conversations. I go as far as not watching certain shows or movies during the hours of my fast.  

The lack of interaction is a false statement. You learn to interact within and with your faith that keeps your strong. 

Loss of Resources

I teared up today while doing the dishes. In a time of this pandemic, millions have lost their jobs and their ability to care for themselves or their families. 

There may be shortages of items on the shelves at the market for those who can go but what about the shortages in the bank account? How are so many getting through this time? 

When someone asks me how I’m doing, I say that I’m blessed. Blessed that we’re all healthy and together. Blessed that we can still put food on the table. Blessed that we can all sit around at the table and cherish these moments. 

My fast was easy today. It was easy due to the simple thought that others fast like this every day. Not because they choose to but because they have no other means to. 

That is one huge part of Ramadan and I think this year it hit me hard more than past years. At first, I thought I’d struggle since I haven’t fasted in four years (2016 I was pregnant, 2017 I was nursing and 2018-2019 I had unforeseen health challenges.) 

It is a do no harm fast and with all the angst in the world right now, I feel it’d be more harm if I didn’t fast. 

We will come out of COVID a stronger human race but we will come out hopefully not forgetting the simple things that matter most. Our family. Our homes. Our resources. 

This year is will go down in history and the way you shape your thoughts will help you get through it. Any spiritual sacrifice helps one connect to the more important things. 

Listen to your inner voice. Look around you and realize the world isn’t unicorns and rainbows right now. Rather, how can you project yourself to get us closer to the pot of gold. 

My Editorial on this Pandemic

I have been silent these past few weeks. At first, I think it was denial. The feeling of waking up every day, seeking to find my old norm outside my bedroom door.

I realize, now,  I’m torn with the what our world is going through and how I can or should react. We share statistics and pretty graphs on tv. Heck- I’d be lying if I said I didn’t get a little excited seeing those charts, bringing me back to my simulation undergrad courses. 

But each red dot is a person. A mother. A father. A daughter son or sister. A grandparent or uncle. A friend. A lover. A human. 

More and more you see ads with the tag line ‘we’re all in this together’ and I bet that only a small percentage of the nation feels that way. 

How about the percentage that has to drop their children at daycare each morning? Or the percentage who got laid off with no money in their savings? Or the physicians, nurses, pharmacists, truckers and grocers on the front-line? Together we stood after our last national turmoil. How can we stand now? 

What is the answer? Can we just stop? Should we? How will those families put food on the table? How will the ill be treated? 

This is bigger than any national emergency I had ever hoped to witness. But being a mother, the sheer thought of this country stopping, even for a day scares me. How will I feed my daughter tomorrow? Care for her if she runs a fever?

We must do our part in social distancing. Only go out for necessities and only buy the necessary. And keep those who provide those necessities safe and healthy. 

I have come to learn a few things this week. 

1. Be grateful for what you have, as it can be taken from you in seconds. 
2. Be empathic to those who are in worser conditions than you. 
3. Be a leader who drives optimism during a time of fear. 

I cried last weekend when the reality hit me. I worked so hard from 7-3 each day that I didn’t have time to stop and think about the situation until Friday. But I cried mainly at whether or not I can do the above three things successfully. 

Our world is ever changing and we do not know what tomorrow or next week week will bring. All I know is how I need to be now to enjoy each moment I have and get through the day. 

There is a light on the other side of this and a story to told. With stories, there are lessons to be learned. Our nation is an ecosystem, run by humans to generate valuable resources to keep the humans happy, safe and healthy. When a virus hits, it compromises the integrity of the ecosystem and starts to break down each resource one by one. 

This virus will break us if we let it. We must be mindful. We must recognize we are unique as a nation and we must be use the resources we have to remind us how we got here. And how we will remain here to tell the story. 

Everyone has an opinion.  This is mine. No opinion is wrong. Just use your mind: Before you speak or leave the house, ask yourself - is it worth compromising my system? My surroundings? My family and friends. 

Everyone has the same fear but some choose not to show it. Everyone is susceptible but some are more so than others. Let us be selfless by being selfish. Take care of yourself first and those around you. Then the world will operate the way it was intended to. 

It has to, right? Well, I will at least pretend that it will, in the name of leadership, for the sake of my loved ones.