Last week I was ‘meant’ to write three blogs to share details about the company and discuss our new virtual marketing consultancy offerings - variations of services that were in the pipeline but now seem urgent. But as the week took off, the second of my own choice to social distance and first as a government requirement, it did not unfold as planned despite my best intentions. I had decided to be structured, with daily goals, rules in place for moving through the list. However, there were a lot of calls to take and be made. Virtual coffees were scheduled with people I’d normally see at the club or at customer sites, and time was spent not building the next stage of the business, but time for conversations that started with and devoted many many minutes to try to simply answer the very complex question of, ‘How are you?’

Everyone is exhausted. We have collectively been pushed into a new routine that we had not necessarily planned for or expected. When I started my career over fifteen years ago at Microsoft, I was on a remote team. For the first three years I lived in New York, there was no space at the local office for me to have a permanent cubicle so I worked primarily at home and maybe hot-desked once or twice a month, just to get out of the house. I didn’t know anyone at that office. There were no video meetings yet and in fact, it was odd to have an unplanned call as most things could be solved via IM or email. At the time, working from home was not a thing. I was asked all the time how I could do it. I always answered with a bit of a smile, ‘Easily. If I don’t, they fire me.’ My foundation of work is the ol’ wfh, but I get it. It’s new for a lot of people. There are predictions of how this will change the future of work, and I’m sure it will. But for now. You’re tired, forced to adjust quickly, and that’s ok. Despite being used to it, I’m tired too.

Every day, I go on my one allowed walk of the day. A need to get out to blow off steam but also without much direction or a real desire to get my heart rate up too much. I’ve come to reading the signs of the closed neighbourhood shops. A bizarre interest that finds me stopping and reading a variation of the same sign: We’re closed till further notice. But there has been a beautiful underlying thread to these signs. They are written full of grief (that we are collectively going through), sadness, frustration, uncertainty and reluctance. But the thing that I’m so drawn to are the extra messages added at the end. These one to two lines of that neighbour staying community minded, optimistic, full of promise and resilience. We will see you again, we will happily embrace you when it is safe to do so, we wish you good health, good peace, good happiness. Written without knowing who will read the sign or if they will be read at all. Yet, taking the time to build in the hope, for themselves as small business owners (I get it intimately as one myself), their customers and the broader community.

It makes me think of a Michael Lewis talk I went to where he said given the choice of inflicting pain or joy, he chooses to inflict joy. Or the famous beginning lines of the movie read by Hugh Grant that, ‘Love actually is all around us.’ Perhaps this is not a time that has to be remembered as isolated and confusing. It can also be a time where we reconnected with our friends. Really spoke to our siblings. Learned new skills digital or physical. A time where we noticed each shop in our community or how lovely it is to see kids out in a park on bikes, laughing to see who can go fastest. You are not alone, you are not lost, you are not forgotten. The sun is shining, spring is coming and your community is here for you.

So, this week, I do believe I will get to those three blogs, more virtual coffees, reach out to my friends I haven’t heard from and my clients. But in the meantime, as we adjust to a new ‘business as usual,’ I wish you all good health, great community, some nice laughs and opportunities to see that we are in this together. I look forward to the time where we sit across from each other for a nice coffee (or espresso martini), a good belly laugh and a few less cares in the world. Till then, I’ll see you on the vc.

With love and optimism,

Margaret Sherer

Founder, Cittadina Marketing

A note on optimism