COVID scribble 3.20.2020: TVs & toenails

by Asha Z. Hagood

We’re all very aware of our bodies. How’s my throat…my stomach…my head…my chest…my right pinky toe nail??

We ask each other how we’re feeling.  A good habit which should be sustained. I do wonder though.

How different would this moment in time look if we didn’t have soooo many sources of media and so many ways to consume it? This steady force-feeding of (well meaning?) information… What if we were all crowded around our one set, getting news from one authoritative and responsible source?? It wouldn’t be all news-all-the time, maybe we wouldn’t know how and when Karen in Indiana contracted the virus or the death toll in Russia. But would we have more peace of mind?

Its the great equalizer. Senators. Tom Hanks–Mr. Nice. Idris Elba–Mr. Mashallah. (lol!) Both received this diagnosis: Covid positive. We should note that we’re all subject to His Will.  We have the same amount of power over the wholeness and wellness of our lungs and pinky toes today as we did a few months ago.  Which is to say relatively none.  We’re all equally vulnerable. We’re all in the same gang.

This isn’t to say throw caution to the wind. By all means “have faith, and tie your camel”. Have faith and wash your hands and turn off the news for a while.

COVID scribble 3.18.2020: comedy & change

by Asha Z. Hagood

These are surely interesting times.  In the earlier days, let’s say mid to late February, the jokes and memes came fast and furiously.  Sometimes they were a comfort, but sometimes there was a small voice that wondered would we give this the import and take the precautions needed if we were so busy laughing.  I think we’re managing both. Comedians and content creators keep the creativity and joy coming please and thank you.  Today I danced with Debbie Allen via a live Instagram class. We body rolled and paid in sweat yall!!

I find myself wondering about nature.  Plants and animals are always engaged in worship…always tuned in.  What do they know right now?  As I wheel the recycling bin to the back of the house, I catch a glimpse of the tiny chameleon that lives inside of the old brake rotor on our back patio.  His brown, perfectly matches the ruddiness of the rusted car part.  If he lived there when the rotor was a  slick, dark silver did he mourn and lament having to make the adjustment? How will we change and bend in response to these times?  Will we find the perfect shade?