After a few days of self-isolation, Jordan Doyle felt anxious.

She’s been part of a 12-step program since 2016, after she was hospitalized for addiction to pills, self-harm and eating disorders.

When the COVID-19 pandemic began shutting down meetings worldwide, Doyle said the fellowship that’s helped keep her sober had to get creative.

She found a worldwide meeting on Zoom where recovering addicts are supporting each other 24/7 — all through a non-stop video conference call in the middle of the crisis.

“It’s beautiful, because you realize it isn’t an American thing or a Texan thing, it’s part of the human condition,” she said. “As a whole, the human spirit is resilient. We can overcome our obstacles.”

It’s happening all over the world, just like it’s happening in our own living rooms.

North Texas teachers are logging on, learning how to prepare lessons by Zoom. Apartment-dwellers in the Cedars are leaning out of their windows to sing songs and play music together. Wannabe yogis are finding virtual balance in live streams from their neighborhood studio in Fort Worth.

We’re all striving to keep a sense of normalcy intact — and we’re finding creative and ingenious ways to do it. For every new positive test and government-imposed closure, there’s a story of people finding ways to connect from afar.

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It’s as if — in this age of magic screens and terrifying unknowns — the very thing that’s keeping us all from each other is bringing our hearts and minds closer than ever.

For Doyle, it was a matter of survival. Being alone at any time, much less a time of great stress, can cause old habits to pop back up, she said.

What would happen if her support network vanished? Would she be strong enough if left alone, locked inside without anyone to lean on?

“If I don’t have a community of people I could talk with… I would be screwed,” said Doyle, a Carrollton resident and UNT public relations student. “It’s really, really cool seeing how people can rise up above the situation.”

Artists take the lead

We’ve long been able to reach into each other’s living rooms through video chats and online conferencing, but now our schedules are jam-packed with digital reunions and digital meetings and digital parties. We’re doing more than just chatting — we’re sharing our talents and reconnecting with old friends and recreating that feeling of being out while we’re locked in.

Both locally and around the country, artists launched creative solutions to reach out to audiences through the internet.

Last Friday night, Willie Nelson’s Luck Reunion pivoted their annual music festival that was canceled earlier this month along with Austin’s SXSW. The digital broadcast on Twitch and Facebook let people watch artists like Paul Simon, Neil Young, Nathaniel Rateliff and Margo Price perform from their respective living rooms.

But it’s not just superstars starting live-streamed sets. Local artists who thrive on the now-shuttered bar scene have turned to a digital audience to share their music.

Dallas’ Ryan Berg has broadcasted several shows on Facebook Live since the quarantine started. He said it’s not just a way for him to stay connected to his audience and hopefully make some tip money, but is his way of coping with the strange times.

“It’s our therapy,” Berg said. “As much as we do it for people around us, we do it for ourselves.”

Lucas Meachem, a Grammy-award winning baritone, was set to perform the role of Rodrigo in Verdi’s Don Carlo for the Dallas Opera from March 20-28, before the city canceled all large gatherings.

He and his wife, pianist Irina Meachem, decided instead on a Facebook Live recital last week, and worked with the Dallas Opera to perform one afternoon in an empty hall at the Winspear Opera House. Through a grainy video and imperfect audio, Lucas Meachem’s baritone echoed into thousands of homes. Instead of thunderous applause, the viewers responded with clapping emoji at the end of each piece.

“This is how we can connect through the isolation,” Irina Meachem said. “We’re artists through anything. That hasn’t stopped because of a pandemic.”

Out of necessity

But not everything can be solved by a webcam. Local restaurants have felt the pinch as officials took drastic steps to flatten the curve. Some chefs quickly worked up delivery and take-out menus to stay afloat, while others chose to just close the doors.

Even in that uncertainty, restaurateurs found creative solutions to help feed the community and help their own staff.

Deep Ellum barbecue joint Pecan Lodge shifted to a non-profit model to feed first responders. Other Dallas chefs started online cooking classes for quarantined families. Cane Rosso, the neapolitan pizza place with locations all over North Texas, rescinded its longstanding ranch dressing ban and ended up with a $2000 donation from Hidden Valley to give pizzas to service industry workers.

Casa Linda’s iconic comfort food spot, the Highland Park Cafeteria, has an extensive, varied menu — so much so that owner Jeff Snoyer thought the restaurant wouldn’t be able to operate on a low volume of to-go and delivery orders.

But he had enough food to feed thousands of people.

“So we decided what we should do is just cook everything that we have and give it away,” he said last week.

Staff prepared a makeshift drive-thru and got to work handing out free meals. Last Tuesday, they gave away over 400 meals. Last Wednesday afternoon, they had given away more than 500 meals for the day, Snoyer said.

Linda Avery, who’s worked at Highland Park Cafeteria for 10 years, said the restaurant is like family — they’ll do whatever they can to help others.

“Our customers, they are very grateful that we are open, that we are helping the community, and that we are giving them free meals,” she said.

Snoyer said he won’t be able to keep all of his employees on the payroll — some have already been laid off and will have to apply for unemployment assistance, he said.

“There’s a lot of unknowns and a lot of fear,” Snoyer said, but he’s prepared to wait it out, regroup and see when the restaurant can reopen.

New lessons

But there’s another part of this new normal that we’re leveraging as an excuse for self-improvement.

Can’t go out tonight? Open a book. Got extra time without a long commute to the office? Go for a run or take a walk in the neighborhood. Kids can’t go to school? Tune in for a behind-the-scenes visit to the zoo, free of charge from the comfort of your living room.

We’re trying new cooking projects. We’re learning new languages.

Shannon Driscoll, the owner of North Oak Cliff’s Oil and Cotton art studio and supply shop, has held spring break art camps for kids for 10 years. The coronavirus outbreak threatened to cancel classes this year until Driscoll got creative.

That meant buying a high-definition webcam and packaging art supplies into large manila envelopes.

Each day during the break, she and her team prepared the day’s supplies for delivery to each child’s home. The envelopes contained all the paper, ink, paint, brushes and more that the children, ages 5-12, need for that day. Then, parents logged on and let their children follow along with live lessons — at a safe social distance.

“We’re just figuring out how to change,” Driscoll said. “We’ve had parents reaching out to us and saying, ‘This is exactly what we needed.’”

In the midst of all the chaos, hundreds of North Texans have sought mindfulness through digital yoga classes at home. Many local studios have set up web cams and continued offering classes

At Indigo Yoga in Fort Worth, owners installed a new webcam last Tuesday to broadcast classes to members. They’re also providing free yoga classes to first responders, medical doctors and government employees.

For owner John Cornelsen, it was important to keep the virtual doors open to provide a resource to the community in chaotic times.

“This is community vs. quarantine, and I think community can win,” Cornelsen said. “It’s wonderful to see everyone come together.”

It’s that sense of community, of normalcy, that Daniel Isenberg, tried to keep intact last week. He’s a karate instructor at North Oak Cliff’s Shito-Ryu Dallas. To keep too many people from congregating in the same space, the dojo decided last week to meet outdoors.

They gathered at Kidd Springs Park to spread out, just eight students standing a few feet apart.

“Listen, we cannot make physical contact,” Isenberg told the students in both English and Spanish. “You’re missing the focus, you have to really use your eyes. It’s more important than ever to be using your eyes.”

The students can’t spar, so the lesson focused on punching and kicking techniques from a distance.

Students worked a routine: Step, step, punch. Step, punch. Repeat.

“We can still get together and train together and motivate each other and stay on our routine,” Isenberg said, “When this no longer feels reasonable, we’ll try something else.”