By Tammy Davis
I’m following the governor’s orders, but I still had church and yoga, Corona style. I was under my covers as I watched the Easter service on my i-Pad. I did yoga on the deck. We are all sheltering in place. It’s not easy, but we are adapting. We are creating new routines and finding new normals.
A Different Kind of Easter
Brunches with my children. Big family dinners at my mother’s. Neighborhood egg hunts. Crosses covered with clippings from everybody’s yard. New Sunday outfits. I miss all these things this Easter season. Some years, I enjoyed sunrise services at the beach, but wherever I was, I was always with people. Easter in isolation is not easy. It’s not how it’s supposed to be.
This year, I watched my church service via live feed. I never thought I’d get a directive to send a text message during church, but these are crazy times. When our preacher told us to send the peace of Christ via text, I did. I sent a message to my friend in Simpsonville who was logging on to her service. I chatted with a friend in Irmo also watching church online. Churches were closed, but worship still took place. I guess it doesn’t matter if we had on pajamas instead of new dresses.
After viewing church in bed, I cooked a make-do lunch because I couldn’t find all the ingredients I needed for my special dishes. I miss fully-stocked shelves at the grocery store. I miss all my Easter traditions.
The Light In Me Misses The Light In You
I never knew how much I would miss my yoga class until I didn’t have my yoga class. It didn’t take long for my studio to get on the Zoom train and deliver sessions electronically. I rolled my mat out on my deck, grabbed some pillows, and used my pink, terry-cloth bathrobe belt as a strap. I did the best I could, but it was not the same. Nothing is the same. I miss stepping into the magical, soothing space of the studio. I miss the way one instructor places incense on the ledge of the exterior door. I miss the scent of the lavender disinfectant we used to wipe down our blocks at the end of class. I miss the days when cleaning props was just a formality, not anything we took seriously.
One Day Soon
Until the governor says otherwise, I’ll sit in front of my screen as I teach social studies on my back porch and watch worship service in bed and practice yoga outdoors. I’ll continue trying to make the best of things. We really have no other choice.
Eventually, this trial will pass. I can’t wait to hold a church bulletin in my hands and write notes about where we’re going for lunch. I look forward to finding everything I need in the grocery store. One day soon, I hope to hear my instructor encourage us in person and tell us a pose is beautiful. Being together, whether in a yoga studio or a sanctuary, is, indeed, beautiful.
This Corona quarantine makes me realize how spoiled I was. I took too much for granted: going to church, going to yoga, going about my life. I already have a greater appreciation for my day-to-day routines before we went on lock down.
These are days of inconvenience and anxiety. We have to be patient and flexible and resilient.
When the ban is lifted, we’ll go back out into the world. We will shake hands and maybe even hug a friend at church. We will enjoy our time in a yoga studio without wasps and playful pups. We will marvel at fully stocked grocery shelves. We will be glad that the Corona days are behind us. We will be thankful for our traditions and routines. But for now, I miss my old life. I think we all do.
Tammy Davis is a writer and teacher sharing lessons from everyday life. Visit her website at www.tammydavisstories.com to read parts one, two, and three of The Corona Chronicles. Follow Davis on Instagram @tammydavisstories.