After I cancel my morning alarm my phone screen populates with all of the emails, headlines, and texts that came through overnight while in “Do Not Disturb” mode. I take a quick cursory glance to look for the most important or if someone had given in to late night shopping and I had orders to prepare. From there I quickly slip into my daily routine of yoga or exercise, shower, breakfast, coffee, and switching on the news before much of the world stirs. Lately I’ve been getting a notification that the good morning routine I tried to create over a year ago couldn’t start on our smart speaker. I had forgotten I even tried to make this formula to bring our lights up and transition us into the new day. Usually, I just ignore this pop up but it seems to be a gentle reminder that no routines are quite the same now.

Early in the day I will step into my workspace and start my printers; restocking the things that have sold at the last event or building up my inventory that is still low from the holiday season. But now, I am hesitant to make products that just need storage while markets are being postponed and stores and venues are shuttering. Throughout the day, the usual texts between my husband and I about slowed commutes, interesting headlines, or tabs on how the day is going have disappeared. There is no need to text when he sits just beyond the bookcase that divides the room while I grow more and more conscious of just how much I talk under my breath or to our cat. One of the first evenings of extended home life we started preparing dinner and I tried to slip into our typical routine of asking about each other’s days before realizing we had already shared the whole day together; the routine didn’t need to start.

More than our personal health, our livelihoods and futures are suddenly at risk too.

Long before this, I have been asked if I get lonely being a sole proprietor, running my own business full time, and working alone. I’ve routinely said no. The truth is that while I may not typically have people working alongside me, I am not actually alone. I am a vendor at markets across the city where I meet interesting people and make new connections. I also have the opportunity to teach small and large groups about what I do or new crafting skills that stretch their confidence. I have a host of people supporting me and connections to other makers who feel the same struggles, know exactly what is at stake, and create a community where it seems non-existent.

Small businesses, and especially sole proprietors, are looking at a harsh possibility of not surviving. More than our personal health, our livelihoods and futures are suddenly at risk too. Many of us are absolutely dependent on places where people can gather and create with one another. We build our lives around the marketplaces, event stalls, and folding tables that are now inaccessible. We rely on people who choose purchasing from small businesses because they know this will allow individuals and communities to thrive. We need each other to make it. We can’t be alone.

Being a member of a team is one way that I am able to remain connected, visible, and heard. It gives me the opportunity to be a part of a larger voice that can advocate and support one another. Working together can provide a path for facing challenges head on and being lifted up during struggles. It helps to squelch the cynicism, calm the anxiety, and build new routines around kindness and community. Routines that I hope will stay with us longer than this pandemic ever will.

Rebekah Thornhill is a NYHC Member that makes sustainable, bold, and fun 3D printed jewelry. Visit R+D here.