2020: Battered, Tattered, Worse for Wear

At a recent writing conference, I greeted some friends, then joined them at the vendor table we were manning to help promote OWFI (Oklahoma Writer’s Federation, Inc), and popped open my laptop. Sounds simple, right? The phrase “popped open my laptop” seems a pretty accurate representation of what that process should entail—but this time, that task was more arduous than you’d think. 

First, I pulled out the laptop & attached the power cord. I plugged it in, then using both hands, I squeezed the gaped casing together on the upper left side by the power button, trying to force a connection. Clenching the case with one hand, I mashed the power button down with the other and began the “oh please, oh please, oh please” chant that is meant to invoke the magic that will awaken the electronic mass before me— the one that by the looks of it, should never whir to life again. And after the third verse (a little more desperate, but same as the first) the light stuttered on and the cracked screen flickered with promise. Huzzah! 

But I was not finished yet. Next I reached into my bag and pulled out the external mouse and, after enthusiastically unwrapping it from its wound up cord, plugged it into one of the few holes that punctuate the laptop’s silver masking tape cast that has failed to stand the test of time. And with that we had movement!  The power of selection!  

But the ritual was not yet complete. Next came the external Bluetooth keyboard, ready to take its place on the very backs of the fallen integrated keys that lie dead and dormant beneath it, a bleak reminder of the way things were. 

And finally, I was ready to work. My friend Shelley observed all this, and chuckling, commented, “you know, if 2020 were a laptop...” What a perfect analogy for this poor contraption!

Today I was reflecting on this, following the successful implementation of ritual and chant, and thought about how true her observation really is, even beyond the surface. This year has been so...  2020. Sadly, enough said. And with all of the trials we’ve encountered—individually, globally—how many of us are maybe feeling as tattered as this sad little laptop?  How many of us feel cracked, worn down, coming apart at the seams? Anyone else feel like we need a magical chant to breathe the light back in every time we let ourselves “power down” for even a minute? We are relying on new tools, to replace those that won’t function in this new landscape, oddly reminiscent of those that were such integrated parts of our lives, but still separate, external, somewhat awkward and removed. We try to create support but can’t seem to keep it together. Sometimes we feel like we are struggling to force connections. And it’s all too easy to feel that from the looks of things, we don’t have much left to give. 

But guess what? Despite all the extra efforts, the inconvenience and annoyance, this battered, tattered laptop of mine still got the job done. Perseverance and ingenuity won out. It wasn’t pretty, but it was battle tested and triumphant. And maybe that’s the point. 

Trials are gonna come. They will dominate world news, infiltrate church pews. They will creep into family homes and steal away quietly into an individual’s heart and mind.  And none of us are immune. Sometimes, when we are feeling defeated, we just need to grab hold and squeeze. We need to chant out some hope, embrace the awkward, and accept the help that feels unnatural to us but somehow, still gets us through. There will be time for restoration and renewal later, if we just hold on. The light of promise will flicker back to life.