Nothing.

When I was a young girl, I went to sleep away camp each summer. I always enjoyed it. There were new friends made, lots of skits and songs, crafting and campfires, sports competitions and adventures in the woods. But, what I loved most was getting ready for camp. 

A few weeks before my week or two away, the camp would send a packet about drop off and pick up procedures, medical records needed and my favorites: the programming agenda and a checklist of what to pack. 

I would study both of these lists. I would know the agenda to a “T” (and plan outfits accordingly). Then, dutifully, I would pull together all the items needed, checking each off the list as I went. I loved getting my sleeping bag, my “mess” kit and stationary and stamps for letters home all organized and ready to go. 

I liked the agenda and packing list for the element of excitement of course. It got me all sorts of jazzed about the time away. But, I think there was also something not just fun, but also comforting to me to have a tangible schedule of events and list to move through. I liked to have a guide and a plan. Something telling me, “This is what you are going to do and this is what you need. Follow and understand these lists and you will be all set for the time you are away from your normal.”

But, what I also loved was that studying the schedule, mapping out my plan for each day and packing was something to do as I looked ahead to the unknown.

For the same reasons, I loved back to school shopping and prepping for moving into the dorms, the time before studying abroad, planning my wedding and even baby prep. I loved being armed with a list. Get these things, do those things, and then you will be ready and find success and fun. (Now, if you are seasoned reader you will know that is not exactly how the whole baby thing went down… but, in the expecting part I felt so ready.)

I am a planner. A bit of a rule follower. At times, a worrier and even prone-sometimes- to hyperbole. But even more than all of those, I am a doer.

Professionally, even with all my big ideas, I am far more an integrator than a visionary. Doing things, trying new systems and procedures, studying data to see what works best. That’s my jam.

Personally, I set goals and just do the things to get me there, making the time in the margins of life. Even my “relaxing” looks like folding laundry.

This week, I felt untethered. 

There was an antsy, uneasiness to the point of losing focus. Anxiety? Probably, yes. But… anxiety over the virus? No. I am pretty sure that wasn’t it.

Instead, it was a strange anxiety that something *might* happen (ahem… actual, government mandated quarantine…) and I wasn’t sure how and for how long to prepare. I felt like I needed to do something. But, what? 

All week it felt like, “Here I am. Waiting for instruction.”

Waiting for my list of items needed to check off for the exact amount of time I am going to need them. Waiting for a guide and a peek into what to expect. A tool to let me know what to do to be not over prepared or under prepared, but perfectly prepared.

On Wednesday things seemed to escalate.

There was the first case in our town. There were so many “what if’s?” and “should we’s?” out there. And then everything started to get cancelled and postponed. Including two events I had been working towards for weeks and even our vacation to Florida. All off the calendar for the foreseeable future and, in a time when I felt like I needed to be doing something, everything that I had been doing that had an actual purpose disintegrated. 

Now I really had nothing to do. Nothing to do but scroll.

And, I did.

It was all bad. Every refresh was more uncertainty or something new getting thrown off the books. A couple hours in I even convinced myself I had corona virus because it felt hard to breathe. My lungs felt heavy and tight. 

The night continued and Tom Hanks announced his positive results. Unable to sleep well and reaching for my phone to keep me company while up, I finally said “enough” around 4:30 AM. I told Adam I was going to the gym and then keeping the kids home.

Not because I was scared of germs or wanted control.

But, because I needed to opt out. I needed to get off and away from my computer and phone. I needed to stop waiting. I needed to be distracted. I needed to do nothing.

And, we did. 

We watched Frozen Two. We went to the park and on a walk. We made cookies and dinner. We took naps.

And, I didn’t even know that March Madness was completely canceled until Friday… It was awful- and glorious.

Right now there are calls on social media to do a lot. 

Some crazy. (“How to make your own Purell!”) 

Some good. (“Check on your elderly neighbors.”) 

Some inspiring. (“Issac Newton discovered calculous when Cambridge closed for the Bubonic Plauge…”) 

Some downright outrageous. (I am looking at you color coded daily schedules. Stop giving parents such false hope.)

But, maybe what we should do, is nothing.

Maybe we should stop stocking up on TP so there is enough for everyone who actually needs it. Stop laughing at the “green” momma who picked up some Lysol with no hesitation. 

Maybe we should stop mocking the naysayers AND those panicking. Stop pointing fingers at politicians or making armchair opinions. Stop saying and believing blanket stereotypes about other countries.

Maybe we should get off the phone and TV. Maybe we should consume something other than media.

Maybe we should stop making jokes and memes about the wine or beer needed to “survive” a quarantine because some one struggling with alcohol is genuinely worried about how to be alone with themselves.

Maybe we shouldn’t say a word about working from home and how “hard” it is because it’s no where near as hard as having to choose between the health and the safety of you and your family or making rent.

And, maybe we should stop talking about how “weird” or “crazy” this is because if that is all we have to say about it, we are very, very lucky.

Maybe, just for a little while, we should do nothing.