Monday July 20, 2020
Jeff Croteau
Learn
When I was asked to participate in this series of daily reflections for the St. John’s community, I realized that it might be the first time since we were all told to “stay at home” that I could actually pause, collect my thoughts, and write them down. That might seem odd to some, given how much time we’ve all spent at home. Despite being forced to stop traveling, meeting, working in the office and gathering with friends and family, I have found that many aspects of life did not, in fact, stop. They changed, but proceeded at a pace that felt as quick as ever. I feel grateful to have been asked to stop, reflect, and write. Thank you.
The theme of “learn” is particularly appropriate in this time. For many of us, we were concerned that our children would cease to learn without physically attending school. Our peers may cease to learn new skills at work. We might stop learning in our journey of faith at St. John’s. As I paused and prepared to begin writing, I did something that seemed very natural to me. I consulted the dictionary for the precise definition of ‘learn’. Not surprisingly, it contains references to ‘to gain knowledge or understanding’, and ‘to come to realize’, among others. These references immediately helped crystalize my thinking, and allowed me to begin to write. Trust the process, as has been said many times before.
I’ve come to realize that we’ve been given a gift during the last four months. The gift of opportunity to learn anew. To learn to adapt to a new sequence of life events. To learn how to foster relationships without the benefit of physical proximity. Or in the case of family at home, perhaps to learn how to foster relationships while living on top of one another at all times. To learn how to be accepting of others, particularly when you realize that “everyone is just trying to figure this out”. I have not yet found anyone that hasn’t been changed by this environment, but I believe that everyone is learning. It may not be obvious, but look carefully at those around you. Their eyes, their words and their emotions have been altered in meaningful ways.
My great hope is that this learning is durable. We will undoubtedly go back to our old ways at some point in the future. I trust that we’ll be able to gather again. To move freely and comfortably, inside and out. Together. But I hope our new appreciation for those around us, and their struggles, does not fade. I’ve come to realize that I don’t want to have missed this opportunity. I want to have learned. As I have.