Cleaning the anxiety away
My Jewish mother offers an age-old blessing whenever things go south: “That it shouldn’t get worse!”
Growing up, this infuriated me. I heard it when I scraped my knees after bicycle accidents, upon receiving college rejection letters, even during relationship drama. One time, during a very painful breakup, I questioned this logic by responding, “exactly how much worse could it get?”
To which my mother replied, “at least you’re not in the Holocaust!”
I bring this up because I now constantly repeat this reasoning like a religious mantra. I check the news, worry, then hope beyond hope that it stays status quo. And I know I’m not the only one. The coronavirus has seemingly affected everyone in some way or another.
I am no longer attending SXSW, which was canceled. I was slated to conduct a keynote talk on mental wellness with Ban.do founder Jen Gotch. But more importantly, I am heartbroken that my newly widowed mother, who lives in Israel, can no longer travel to be with us here in the Stat…
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