Back in March, when Covid-19 upended humanity, my first response, like so many others, was to freak out. I worried, “What if this pandemic decimates my business and savings?!” The fear was paralyzing.
Within a week, though, my fears gave way to the actions I could take to deal with the realities we were all facing.
With the help of a team of supporters, Giant Leap pivoted to a virtual training model, which, thankfully, stabilized the business and allowed the company to continue serving our customers.
Now that we’re half-a-year into the pandemic, my fear has been transformed into gratitude.
Now that we’re half-a-year into the pandemic, my fear has been transformed into gratitude.
For almost 25-years my life had been nomadic, traveling to various clients across the country, and spending as much time sleeping in hotels as at home. It took the pandemic for me to realize how lousy, and frankly unhealthy, the roadie life actually is. Since March, I’ve been able to eat dinner with my family, spend quality time with my kids, and sleep on my own pillow.
To be clear, I take Covid-19 very seriously, and, yes, I am a mask-wearer. I’ve known a number of people who contracted the virus and I don’t wish it on anyone. That said, I am grateful that the pandemic has made me homebound, at least temporarily. Being at home has enabled me to be much more involved in the development of my three teenage kids. We’ve had rich conversations about social justice, politics, and personal responsibility, all while enjoying Asheville’s beautiful mountains and rivers together.
Honestly, being homebound has made me a more present, more attentive, and more involved father and husband.
Honestly, being homebound has made me a more present, more attentive, and more involved father and husband.
There’s a song by female rocker Alanis Morrisette that I love, titled Thank U. In the song she expresses gratitude for all of life’s good and not-so-good. She thanks, among other things, disillusionment, frailty, consequence, and even terror. I get where she’s coming from. Flowers grow out of the nutrients that compost provides. Bad stuff can cause good stuff, so even the bad stuff deserves our good thanks.
As I write this today, I’m headed to Alabama to lead my first in-person workshop since March – fittingly enough on managing change.
And guess what? I’m grateful for that, too.
