The Ice Cream Truck Makes Me Smile: COVID-19 & the Simple Things of Life
Robin B. Zeiger, Ph.D.
This afternoon I had to smile when I almost “ran “into the ice cream truck. These days we all need to remember to smile. It is not always so easy in the face of a scary pandemic that has touched every part of our lives. I was in a hurry driving to an appointment. And I was initially a bit annoyed to be slowed down by a truck double-parked on the side of the road. It was in my way and I was in my head rushing to my next task in a somewhat crazy life. Then I noticed it was an ice cream truck. I overheard the voice of someone ordering ice cream.
Suddenly I was transported to another space and time; that of my summertime memories as a child in Chicago. I grew a couple blocks from the beaches of Lake Michigan. Life was much simpler in the 60’s and 70’s. There were fewer food choices, less restaurants, and shared family meals most every day. People sat down for coffee and tea without the possibility of constantly checking their cell phone. Food was served on real plates with real conversation.
This is the space and place of the ice cream truck. I remember how excited I became as a child when the ice cream truck graced out street. Through our open windows I would hear its distinctive music. The “rush” would begin. First, I would run to the window to “see” if I could spot the truck. I would listen carefully to determine if the truck had stopped and parked. There would be the scramble to find some lose change. Ice cream trucks didn’t take credit cards in those days.
I would run downstairs to purchase a favored treat. Sometimes it was an ice cream bar. Sometimes a fudgesicle that I had to quickly eat before it melted all over me in the Chicago heat. There is the wonderful experience of biting off the end of the sugar cone and sucking out the ice cream from the bottom. And in the recesses of my mind is the memory of root beer popsicles. I don’t remember the last time I saw one of them. But I am sure if I do, I will have to try it again.
Right now, in my country, we are living in an in-between world of the pandemic. At the very beginning of the pandemic, life was very scary. The whole world seemed to be in a panic and we did not know what to do next. Yet, I found that when I was restricted by my government to remaining within 50 meters of my house, life became clearer and simpler. I worked on Zoom and drank coffee on my patio and walked my dog in the field behind our house. I found more time to sleep and contemplate and create and write.
Now, although the virus continues full force, some of the restrictions have been lifted. I am writing this article at a small sushi restaurant that is almost empty. I take off my mask to eat and put it back on to walk in the street. And I feel confused and hassled. The numbers of active cases are rising again. Yet, to close everything brings financial disaster and other problems to our country and our world. I am glad that I am not a pollical leader or a minister of health. I would not want these decisions resting on my shoulders.
A close friend and colleague of mine often appears to be a real extravert, with many friends and social obligations. We became closer during the restrictions and created a Zoom coffee hour. She confessed her introversion and how much she liked the lack of obligations. She promised herself that when the restrictions were lifted, she would not “rush back” into life yet she confesses this resolution is not so easy. I am with her. It is not simple.
I am convinced we must not let this huge world crisis pass without making some necessary changes. Looking illness, catastrophe, and death in the face often brings more meaning to life. We must ask ourselves what our real priorities are on a daily basis. We must take something with us.
I keep fighting with myself. I am a person with a lot of energy and ideas. This is both a blessing and a curse. I often find myself struggling to figure out what to do next. And there are too many ideas and lists rattling around in my head.
Sometimes I wake up in the morning to another day of the world pandemic, and I ask myself if I am really in the midst of a nightmare.
If there is one thing, I must take with me, it is the simplicity. I want to notice the ice cream trucks again with the wonderment of a child. And I want to remind myself how to sit and contemplate.
Check out Danielle’s website for some stunning photos!!!
Robin B. Zeiger is a practicing Jungian psychoanalyst and a free-lance writer.
She is a member of the:
International Association of Analytical Psychology and the Israel Institute of Jungian Psychology. She can be reached at rbzeiger@yahoo.com.
