Like so many people around the world concerned with community spread of the coronavirus, I have curtailed my activity.

I am not exactly on lockdown or house arrest, but I am not going out for movies or to restaurants. I have worked from home for many years, largely performing B2B market research, but because clients and their customers are in holding patterns on potential projects, I have no work.

I managed to go grocery shopping before every can of turkey chili was cleared from my local Trader Joe’s shelves (I think I got the last three).

I take my dog out for three walks a day and seem to take extra pleasure from our walks because I am not going out as often.

YouTube TV and Netflix and a few books I have been meaning to get around to for a while have presented me with some level of entertainment.

But…no doubt about it, I’ve been finding myself hungry for engagement. Reading and streaming visual content might capture my attention for a while, but I need to interact with life.

I found an unexpected source of satisfaction, actually an outlet for creativity and pleasure, through a new (at least, new for me) relationship with entertainment technology.

I didn’t grab onto Walkman technology when it was first introduced in the late 70s or adopted iTunes technology, which has now been available for nearly twenty years. Although popularized by an understandable impulse to make music portable and specific to your tastes, I liked the idea of being present to what was naturally available in the place where I was.

If I was in Spain, I wanted to enjoy the local flavor of street music as I nibbled Patatas Bravas. If I was hiking in Muir Woods, just north of San Francisco, I didn’t want to bring along my own soundtrack. I wanted to tune in to the sound of nearby creeks or the sound of wind rustling through leaves.

I really wanted to have the full experience of where I was, not insist on making an environment my own wherever I went.

I finally got speakers hooked up for my dining room and kitchen area a few weeks ago and finally got onboard with Spotify just the other week.

In this time, when I am not going out much, I started finding a lot of joy in creating PLAYLISTS. I know I can do this for playing tunes on my iPhone, but I like to experience music around me. In my home.

I thought about albums I used to have and let go of as technology changed. I considered who I hung out with at different times in my life and what music they may have introduced me to.

I can’t think about my bestie without hearing Joni Mitchell playing in the background. And I have my ex-husband to thank for educating me about Paul Desmond and his contributions to Dave Brubeck’s ensemble’s portfolio.

From early Stevie Wonder and Steve Winwood to jazz standards, I thought about how favorite artists’ work affected my mood or captured something essential about how I felt about life at the time.

I started making a jazz playlist and quickly decided I would need to make “Jazz 1” and “Jazz 2” collections. This would leave room for other numerals and a more complex selection criteria.

Jazz 1 ended up including a mixture of classics like “Song for My Father “ by Horace Silver, “The In Crowd” by Ramsey Lewis, and “Spain” by Chick Correa.  Jazz 2 included ballads and more sentimental tunes such as “Waltz for Debby” by Bill Evans and Coltrane’s version of “My Favorite Things.”

Then, I got to thinking that this strange time, this period of uncertainty and social distancing, required a special playlist. I called my collection Uplifting/Home Alone. I wanted to be able to rely on music to create a sense of connection with others, in these days where we’re warned about shaking hands and unwittingly spreading illness.

I started with the spiritual simplicity of “Amazing Grace” sung by Judy Collins and the Harlem Boys Choir. I added and the exuberance of young love in “Brown Eyed Girl” by Van Morrison and the strange ode to everyone’s desire to belong, “This Must Be the Place” by Talking Heads.

I included a favorite anthem from a lesser known band, The Wood Brothers, that my friend Nicki introduced me to several years ago; “Sing About It.”

Not a vaccine, nor a cure for COVID-19, still the prefect prescription for anxiety and isolation.

“If you get too worried/What you ought to do is sing/If you get worried/What you ought to do is sing
If you get worried/What you ought to do is sing/Sing about your troubles, it just might pass.”

Making, and sharing, a playlist is no small thing.