We've had our shots. Well, most of us. I still wear my mask in public places and haven't gone back to church yet, but we are all getting a bit braver. There are more walks with friends, and an occasional dinner out and (GASP) sometimes "in". I don't wake up afraid these days, partly a product of scientific miracles and partly of improved politics. And now I get to ask the big question: What, if anything, have I learned?
In a few weeks I'll be going back into the office in person, which will involve driving in big city rush hour traffic both ways for the first time in my (shouldn't I be retired by now?) life. This would normally send me into a serious tailspin, but I've become convinced that there's pretty much nothing I can't cope with anymore. During the Pandemic I've lost weight and a few friends (mostly due to my not so subtle political leanings). I've taught myself Italian on Duo Lingo, become a much better and healthier cook, and started a course to become a voice over actor, something I've toyed with for decades. The house is still a sad, sad mess, so I learned that lack of time at home was not the problem there. Well, you can't have it all. Where would you put it? (The answer is apparently on the big pile of whatever it is in my bedroom.) These accomplishments are not trivial, but neither are they earth shaking. The more important changes seem to have taken place inside.
I don't get into as many fights these days. That is due to a combination of exhaustion, frustration, and calming down. It appears I am not really the General Manager of the Universe. I just thought I was, and it was a stinky job. Instead, there is a concerted effort to be kinder, to strangers, to people who differ with me, to the planet, to animals, even to the bats who have decided to visit me three times (but only one at a time, thank God) in my little house. All three were escorted outdoors, which I have learned is something one is not supposed to do during the colder months, but we've learned better, so we're doing better. Anyway, I do like bats. Himself still gets to deal with any mice that come in to have a snack in the cabinets. I don't have the energy to ride into battle with my sword drawn to try to convince people who don't want to hear what I have to say. As I read in a meme, "Bees don't spend their time trying to convince flies that honey tastes better than poop."
I have also learned several lessons, while remaining completely aware that for many people this period of our history has been too big a survival nightmare and heartache to take time to learn anything new. There is not much I really need to get along. Water, food, a stack of books, and some wonderful friends to spend time with. I suppose I should include "clothes" but that's not as big a deal as it used to be, and my big discovery there was that I could put my iron in the attic and never once in 16 months go looking for it.
We still have the Christmas tree up, but it's time to take it down. It's been lit pretty much every night, re-decorated for Valentine's Day, Saint Patrick's Day, and most recently with stars, each one listing one of our wishes for the future, both noble and completely selfish. But I'm tired of having it behind me for every Zoom call. It has served its purpose and by August it will be back in the attic until November. By the way, it was hard coming up with anything to put on the stars. There isn't much I really want, and I should get rid of half of what I already have. Travel might be nice. I am embarrassed by how lucky I am and by the amazing friends who are pure gifts, and who mean so much more to me than I had realized.
So off we go, admitting that it isn't REALLY over, and there might be another spike in the fall. We've more or less learned how to handle those to some bearable degree. I respect the seriousness of the virus, and I'll continue to be cautious, but it's time to get back out there. Because, as my personal motto goes, "Life is short. And so am I". Be careful out there. You mean a lot to someone.
In a few weeks I'll be going back into the office in person, which will involve driving in big city rush hour traffic both ways for the first time in my (shouldn't I be retired by now?) life. This would normally send me into a serious tailspin, but I've become convinced that there's pretty much nothing I can't cope with anymore. During the Pandemic I've lost weight and a few friends (mostly due to my not so subtle political leanings). I've taught myself Italian on Duo Lingo, become a much better and healthier cook, and started a course to become a voice over actor, something I've toyed with for decades. The house is still a sad, sad mess, so I learned that lack of time at home was not the problem there. Well, you can't have it all. Where would you put it? (The answer is apparently on the big pile of whatever it is in my bedroom.) These accomplishments are not trivial, but neither are they earth shaking. The more important changes seem to have taken place inside.
I don't get into as many fights these days. That is due to a combination of exhaustion, frustration, and calming down. It appears I am not really the General Manager of the Universe. I just thought I was, and it was a stinky job. Instead, there is a concerted effort to be kinder, to strangers, to people who differ with me, to the planet, to animals, even to the bats who have decided to visit me three times (but only one at a time, thank God) in my little house. All three were escorted outdoors, which I have learned is something one is not supposed to do during the colder months, but we've learned better, so we're doing better. Anyway, I do like bats. Himself still gets to deal with any mice that come in to have a snack in the cabinets. I don't have the energy to ride into battle with my sword drawn to try to convince people who don't want to hear what I have to say. As I read in a meme, "Bees don't spend their time trying to convince flies that honey tastes better than poop."
I have also learned several lessons, while remaining completely aware that for many people this period of our history has been too big a survival nightmare and heartache to take time to learn anything new. There is not much I really need to get along. Water, food, a stack of books, and some wonderful friends to spend time with. I suppose I should include "clothes" but that's not as big a deal as it used to be, and my big discovery there was that I could put my iron in the attic and never once in 16 months go looking for it.
We still have the Christmas tree up, but it's time to take it down. It's been lit pretty much every night, re-decorated for Valentine's Day, Saint Patrick's Day, and most recently with stars, each one listing one of our wishes for the future, both noble and completely selfish. But I'm tired of having it behind me for every Zoom call. It has served its purpose and by August it will be back in the attic until November. By the way, it was hard coming up with anything to put on the stars. There isn't much I really want, and I should get rid of half of what I already have. Travel might be nice. I am embarrassed by how lucky I am and by the amazing friends who are pure gifts, and who mean so much more to me than I had realized.
So off we go, admitting that it isn't REALLY over, and there might be another spike in the fall. We've more or less learned how to handle those to some bearable degree. I respect the seriousness of the virus, and I'll continue to be cautious, but it's time to get back out there. Because, as my personal motto goes, "Life is short. And so am I". Be careful out there. You mean a lot to someone.
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