COVID-19: Earn your wings

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On the day the planes hit the World Trade Center in New York, my entire view of the world changed.

I had been going through some really rough stuff, trying to raise a small group of hellions who were out of control; desperately searching for work when there was none; and hanging on to a house I hated, one which I had bought irrationally post-divorce.

It often felt like I had stepped in quick sand and it was all I could do to cling for dear life onto what was left of the solid ground.

Every night, I would sit in the living room and stare at a tree in the middle of the green space behind my house, and imagine building a fort, and just going there to live. I wanted to be in a place where nobody could find me, not the collection agencies, or the ex, not even my beloved children.

Instead, I just sat there with a bottle of wine in one hand, and a self-help book in the other.

Then the planes hit and the entire world was turned upside down. My kids came racing home, gleeful that something really exciting had happened. Me, I just sat there watching the planes barrel into those towers over and over again.

That event changed my life completely. It was as if someone had come to my house and unlocked the chains and shackles that had kept me lying on the couch with the phone on mute.

That terrible tragedy made me feel alive again.

All bets were off.

I was free.

A few days later, I informed the lady who held the second mortgage on my house that I was walking away from my so-called investment. I stopped taking calls from the pesky person at the tax department who had been hounding me for years to pay tax on my support payments. And I went to see a bankruptcy trustee.  Then I went across town and rented a beautiful house for less money than I was paying for my pile, and moved my kids to a better school in a nicer part of town.

Nobody got hurt. The tax department got their money. The lady took back the house and sold it to some other chump. I still had enough money in savings to buy brand new furniture, clean up my old place and start over.

Oh, and then I had a nervous breakdown.

It wasn't until I landed in the hospital with severe anxiety that I realized that I had been making myself sick over stupid shit. Nine-Eleven woke me from my cocoon and showed what mattered in my life, and that didn't include a house I hated, and a million other things I could not change in my life.

I was lucky enough to come to realize what was important before some doc gave me a cancer diagnosis, or before my liver gave out.

That's what the World Trade Center means to me.

I look at this COVID-19 pandemic in the same way. I'd spent the last couple of years in a deep depression after watching my best friend die from cancer, and losing the one real job I'd ever loved.  Without the kids in the house, I felt I had lost my purpose in life. Without my friend, I had nobody to try to save anymore.

Then somebody somewhere ate a bat and ruined it for the rest of us.

After the pandemic hit, I realized that my mind had gone back to that rather dark place again, and I was spinning out of control. Nobody would hire me. Nobody needed me. Even the dogs hated me.

I had become an ugly person, with an even uglier attitude, a bitter old lady just sitting in her chair, waiting to die.

Thanks to the pandemic, my mood has improved greatly.  I'm writing again. I'm bubbling over with creativity I haven't had in five years. I've started spending my days with the smart people on Masterclass who are teaching me how to be a better writer, cook and decorator.

Now some of you reading this may think I'm nuts. You may have lost your job or a promotion. Your investments have probably tanked. Your kids are driving you bananas.

Take it from me, things will get better for most of us who are lucky that we're not on respirators, or worse.

Maybe you'll have to find a new career or purpose in life.

It's not over.

It's just beginning.

We can't control a pandemic, or a job loss due to a pandemic, or a house full of kids with no friends or school. The only thing we can do is let it go of our anger and bitterness, and stop feeling sorry for ourselves. Turn that frown upside down.

We are so fortunate to live in a country in which the government is willing to offer up a helping hand.  If you get the CERB you're lucky. If you can still work, you're lucky. If neither applies to you, you're still lucky. There are plenty of people out there who can help if you just reach out to them.

Don't stay stuck. Pick up your head off the pillow, and do something. Leave a hateful marriage. Volunteer to help an elderly neighbour. Finally finish that damned basement. Or learn French.

And yes, make bread, lots of it, and slather it with butter and bacon fat.

Find your happy place. Instead of watching endless reels of the Orange Clown golfing, go golfing yourself. Instead of watching Netflix all day, become a person who producers make movies about.

Or just plant a garden. Smell a flower. Hug a puppy.

It's in all of us to embrace what the pandemic, or a 9-11 teaches us. Be kind, Wear a mask. Get busy being your best self.

If you do that, I guarantee, you will not only survive the pandemic, you will earn your wings.

Trust me on this.

Life will get better.