It’s not a secret that in the reality of the COVID-19 pandemic, individuals, families, and companies had to pivot. Individuals and families had to choose how to respond to the shutdown of the resources and spaces they knew and loved (restaurants, schools, churches, community centers, etc.). Companies had to recognize that their customers’ needs were different and adapt. There were two prominent adaptations that many companies added or enhanced in their response to these needs:
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- Contactless drive-up orders: Place an order online, drive up, pull into a spot, and notify in the app that you’ve parked (and where you are). Then a team member brings it out and loads it into your car.
- Delivery: The number of orders that were being delivered increased drastically, because even if we had to spray every package down with Lysol, it was less scary to get a package at your front door than it was to take your small infant into public and risk a new viral infection.
While those adaptations came about for the sake of health and safety for customers and team members of businesses, they’ve stayed around for a very different reason. Convenience. These options have given us the option of getting what we want in a manner that doesn’t require us to be inconvenienced at all. And when you combine that with the instant access we have to information, and easy methods available for us to use when contacting others (as a result of mobile phones, social media, etc.), it’s really not surprising that as a collective, humans are becoming less capable of being flexible, patient, and committed with one another.
I saw or heard something recently that said, “Everyone wants a village, but nobody wants to be a villager.” And it made me *literally* gasp while sitting in my car. Because when I heard it, I didn’t even have to think twice — I knew it was a bold but accurate take. Especially in Western culture, our society is not built to reward the villagers, caretakers, and listeners. It’s built to incentivize being over-scheduled, performing at a consistently high level, and being the most efficient. Consequently, humans as a collective whole are often caught in this never-ending loop of chasing status, success, and ease… and somewhere along the way, we’ve forgotten that the cost of having that village we so desperately crave is inconvenience.
That’s right, y’all. In order to have the relationships and the community, we have to stop spinning in circles like puppy dogs chasing our own tails. We have to look up from our phones and/or laptops (your eyes and neck will thank you, I promise) and connect ourselves to other people. And listen, I’m not suggesting that we all toss out our to-do lists and spend all of our days frolicking in fields with one another (though that does sound dreamy). What I am suggesting is that we pause and really consider what we’re sacrificing and/or gaining when we say yes or no to an invitation.
Perhaps this example will resonate with at least one other mom out there: Kids’ birthday parties. We know how it goes — we open our kid’s backpack and there it is… the obligatory invitation (because in order to invite one kid in the class, every kid has to be invited). If you’re like me, when you open the invitation, your first thought might be “Do we have to go? You barely know this kid, and we don’t know their family, and we’d have to get a present, and it’s during your sister’s nap time.” And the obvious answer is no, you don’t have to go. You can absolutely stay home. You can even blame it on the toddler’s nap. But when you do so, make sure you know what you’re giving up for you and for your child(ren).
Is it inconvenient to make another trip to the store to pick out a birthday gift? Chances are that yes, it is. And will I probably be getting the present an hour before the party and trying to wrap it in the front seat in the parking lot of the party venue while my kids ask me what’s taking me so long? Yes, the chances of that are really high. But is the temporary discomfort of inconvenience worth the joy that my kid may get from being amongst friends and just being a kid with friends? Or does the inconvenience outweigh the risk of him having to go to school on Monday, feeling left out of the memories and stories? That random kid from their class could end up being their best friend forever (think about how we got some of our besties). And I could get there and absolutely love their family. And if my kid is the one having their birthday party, I’m really hoping that at least some of those kids’ parents opt into the inconvenience and bring their kids to my son’s party. It matters to me that my kids experience friendship and community… and because it matters to me, paying the cost of convenience is worth it.
