There is a lightness to being fully vaccinated. A little like a revival, it’s also a path to something new. I’ve changed, we all have. Rather than trying to fill the silences, I’ve learned to create small spaces of welcoming for aloneness. I never liked being alone but I do now. I’m returning to myself and find I have grown, which is a pretty good trick for a gal my age. This is a golden time, we can choose what we want to resume and shape our lives a little closer to our liking. For me it looks like family first, then friends, then community, all impacted by a year of insular and solitary living embedded in ways I’m only now beginning to understand. And yes, here we come, the isolators, emerging like cicadas out of hibernation with our noisy demands and clumsy social skills. We would be wise to take on a spirit of gentleness as we place impositions on ourselves and others. I consider adaptation a selfless act, instructive and nourishing if done well.
Taking up activity again is exhaustive and wonderful. It’s similar to the energy required of children, families, and school staff at the start of a new academic year. Every fall, with the ease and respite of summer suddenly over, adaptation is needed to manage the rigors of new demands on time and stamina, there’s a sudden splash into a pool of people you may like or don’t like, but everybody has to get along, all replacing unscheduled endless, sunny days at home. I remember our kids needed plenty of time to decompress at the end of each day. First, they listened to their bodies as they fell into the house after school, splaying themselves on couches like starfish clinging to rocks in tidepools by the sea, resuscitating. There was to be no speaking, least of all questions chirped by a cheerful mom. After a little while, they returned to themselves, ate something, did homework, recalibrated, ratcheting up their adaptation game a little more each day. Nobody expected things to feel great at the beginning and it always felt better eventually. Taking the long view was our salvation.
Yet again, you and I will modify and grow accustomed to this current normal, the middle ground between living alongside a virus and the comparative carefree existence that once was. Don’t forget to cut yourself some slack. Beat back activities competing for your time and rest if you can, it will help. Go outside for a walk or stand under a tree for five minutes and breathe deeply in and out. It’s better than staying indoors with your bottled-up self. Look for a small child or a pet to be near for a few minutes, visit someone else’s if you don’t have one if only to borrow a little of their trust and optimism, which is as essential to our equanimity as hope. Slow down, everything will be okay, and for heaven’s sake, if you’re tired, please take a nap.
Copyright (2021) Suzanne Bayer. All Rights Reserved