Berlin, June 2, 2020,
I sit on a lawn chair. My best friend B.'s partner, M., is working the grill. I spray water on the children playing in the kids' pool.
The birds tweet; the bees hum; I take a sip from a glass of white wine.
It is 2 p.m. and M. flips the steak and then the hot dog. This is all in very slow motion. He tells me: "I love the coronavirus."
I nod. Everyone whom I have met over the past several weeks has been telling me they love coronavirus. They love the fact that life has slowed down, that the pace of life has allowed calm to set in, that there is a lack of pressure.
Of course, they like it because they are privileged. That's abundantly clear.
While I drink my white wine in a lawn outside Berlin and take in the smells of properly roasted steak, millions around the world are at asking themselves how they would buy their next slice of bread. I know this is true, and I want to say this loud and clear.
But in my world, no one has lost their job because of the virus. Many have even received a government stimulus.
But despite this, this is more than just about people who have it easier. It's also about their take on life. M. has a restaurant. For three months it was shut down. And my best friend B. is a professional presenter, and usually holds large events.
Besides that, they have a band that would normally perform every week. That means that they are wholly part of the group of people who should have suffered more than others. But they are not suffering, because they have adapted.
B. now hosts more radio hours. M. has set up a delivery service in record speed. They have not whined, they don't complain, they don't pin this problem on someone else. They did not have to choose a side in order to feel stable inside. They are living the present. What the present brings they accept in open arms, rather than in clenched fists.
I have also been losing some 3,000 euros a month because of events being canceled. Previously, I would make most of my income by taking part in panels and hosting events and reading nights. But when I realized that this would no longer be feasible, I recalculated my route, as the navigation app says.
I made sure to inform through my social media accounts that I am available for hire for occasional projects. And ever since, I have managed to compensate for the loss of revenue using new projects.
About 10 days ago I held my first Zoom reading event. Those who read my diary last week probably remember: In one day I sold 300 tickets for 5 euros each.
And then on Monday morning, I sat in my kitchen in front of a computer. I had 300 people from around the world with me. This was one of the most beautiful experiences I have ever had. I really have to say this. And now I plan to do the same thing every two months. And here, Boom! Something very good has emerged from this very complicated situation. Rather than lethargy and sleepiness, I have found solutions. This has always been my motto.
B. throws a ball to my daughter. My daughter throws it to B.'s daughter, and she in turn passes it to her younger sister. B. calls out, "I love the coronavirus."
And I take a long sip from my white wine, close my eyes and imagine that from now on I will no longer have to step in my office ever again, and no longer have to go on pointless rides to events, but run my life from the lawn chair in my garden.
