Last Sunday evening Daveen and I cuddled together as we watched the Tom Hanks movie (title above) about Mr. Rogers.  The movie tells the story of a cynical, angry journalist who is healed through the process of interviewing and writing an article about Mr. Rogers, the man who cast a long and uplifting shadow over millions of our most precious gifts, our children.

This story is a clarion call to love yourself and everyone you meet.  The message, “Anything that’s human is mentionable, and anything that is mentionable can be more manageable.  When we can talk about our feelings, they become less overwhelming, less upsetting, and less scary. The people we trust with that important talk can help us know that we are not alone.”

We can be open with each other.

Yesterday as we enjoyed a long walk around the neighborhood Daveen and I noticed that, indeed, it was a beautiful day.  The Los Angeles air is clearer than it has been for more than seventy years.  Flowers were springing up, and various hues of green delighted our eyes.  The leaves and branches of trees fluttered gently in a freshening breeze.

The Iris, Poppies, and Azaleas don’t know there is a plague throughout the land.  Ivy, grass, and trees are not privy to human concerns.  Clouds float above us, oblivious, just as they have for longer than we humans have been around to appreciate their beauty.

Perspective.  From a million light years away our planet is smaller than a speck, our continents and seas anonymous, and our very beings of little consequence.  I find that idea to be redeeming.

Do we face a human crisis?  Of course.

Are we properly concerned about food, jobs, and family?  Yes.

Do we need to take care of ourselves and others as best we can?  Absolutely.

As we move forward, let’s not only carry within us the love that we both contain and crave, but let’s also share it with one another. Let’s reveal how we feel without reservation or fear.  Isn’t it beautiful to be connected and know we aren’t alone?

The best part of our neighborhood is that everyone we passed, at a respectful distance, waved and greeted us.  While we might be confined to separate bodies, we all share the very same, beautiful, journey.

Indeed, it is a beautiful day in the neighborhood.

Love,

Alan

One month ago, on March 5, 2020, there were 15 confirmed COVID-19 cases in the United States. As I write this, one month later, there have been more than 330,000 confirmed cases and almost 10,000 deaths related to COVID-19.

As I have said for years, we cannot control what happens to us, but we can control our reaction.  Let’s focus on making our reaction both calm and constructive.

Each night when I read a book before going to sleep my hands often become cold.  I asked my doctor about this and he said, “The same thing happens to me.  Don’t worry about it.”  So I stopped worrying about it.

The reason your hands freeze first, and not your elbows, chin, or thighs, is that the body retains heat in its core areas – the brain and the heart. Let’s use this as a metaphor to help us get through the next few months.  Let’s pay attention to our immediate core needs for food, medication, and shelter.  We don’t need to rush out and buy a new pair of shoes (and if we do there are plenty of online retailers).

This is a time to establish a positive perspective. We shouldn’t be thinking about permanent solutions to what will be a temporary problem.  The Spanish Flu epidemic of 2018 did not recur to any significant extent in following years.  (Did you know that in Spain it is known as “The French Flu”?)

Perspective.  Few people worry about SARS anymore.

Perspective.  When I was young my mother feared Polio and refused to let us use a public swimming pool. Polio was one of the most terrifying childhood illnesses. Today Polio has been eradicated from all but a few countries in the world.

Perspective. In the early 1950’s there were about 50 million cases of smallpox in the world each year.  How many people in the world have smallpox today?  That’s right.  Exactly none.

Perspective.  Sheltering in place will pass.  Your favorite restaurant will reopen.  Everyone, including me, will need a haircut.

I’ve enjoyed watching a little more TV, reading a few more books, and spending time in Daveen’s company.  I’ve noticed the air is unpolluted, and recent Southern California days have been beautiful.  I’m filled with pride and appreciation for every person who is working hard to find solutions at my company. I am grateful to be part of such a fantastic team.  Everyone, mostly working from home, has risen to the challenge and they have been wonderful.  That is an experience I might never have enjoyed otherwise.

I do not intend to minimize the immediate and scary situation. But as a close friend told me years ago, “I’ve worried about many things in my life, most of which have never happened.”

Best of all, I imagine my grandchildren telling stories to their children, twenty or fifty years from now, about how they stayed at home for six or eight weeks during early 2020, and got on their parents’ nerves.

Perspective.

Keep safe.

Alan

On January 10, 2017 I posted a blog entitled, Would It Help?  You can read it (and all of my previous blogs) at alancfox.com. That blog began:

We all have a lot to worry about.  The future is uncertain.  None of us know if we’ll survive until dinner, let alone dance at our five-year-old daughter’s wedding.

The question, Would It Help? seems even more timely today as we find ourselves in the midst of a pandemic that has become a global crisis with nowhere to hide.  This time the problem can’t be solved by moving to New Zealand or to your parent’s’ or children’s home.

In my previous blog I described a scene in the movie Bridge of Spies in which the spy Rudolph Abel is on trial for his life.  But when his attorney, played by Tom Hanks, is leaving after a conference at the prison, Hanks turns and directly asks Abel, “Do you understand that if you are convicted you could be executed?”

“I understand.”

“You don’t seem concerned.”

Abel thinks about it briefly, and shrugs.  “Would it help?”

Many of us have been trained since childhood to share our worries.  We learned that Mom would favor us with support and sympathy if we said something like, “Mom, I’m worried about . . . “

We would get even more sympathy if we said, “Mom, I’m really worried about . . .”

There are many rewards from heavy worry.  The best solution to the problem is not one of them.

We know that crisis and constant worry can seriously affect our health, changing our eating habits, disrupting our sleep patterns, or causing us to lash out at others. Heavy worry can also cloud our judgment. When I was practicing law a client insisted that we accept the first, unreasonable, settlement offer.

“I cannot let myself worry about this for one more day,” my client explained. My client just plain gave up.

Giving up is a poor option.  Gaining or losing weight is a poor option.  Losing sleep is a poor option.

Whenever I start to worry, I have a rule. If I can do something about it right now, I do.  If I can’t do anything about it right now, I stop worrying.  I’m now working from home, and in the evening watching TV programs I would otherwise have missed. I am planning, not worrying.

I’ll share with you with one hint. There is an effective way to receive support and sympathy without having to immerse yourself in worry.  Just ask for it directly.  You might say, “I’m concerned about . . . but I don’t want to tell you, (or even admit to myself), how worried I am.  So would you please give me some support and sympathy just because I’m asking for it?”  We all need mutual support during times like these.  (Two cent royalty for each use of this hint, up to one dollar total.  After you’ve done this fifty times it will be a habit, which I don’t charge for.)

Does “not worrying” work? Yes, I believe that refusing to dwell on your troubles can be healthier and more constructive than the alternative.

After writing my blog back in 2017, I headed for dinner and a TV football game.  This time I’m going to watch yet another documentary on Netflix and finish reading the 2012 book Spillover by David Quammen.  It’s very interesting book on the topic of, well, Coronavirus.  It sort of predicts where we are today.

Keep safe.

Alan