Pandemic – Julie Fredrickson

Seasons seems to have fallen into the same category as “time” in that both have no meaning anymore. The pandemic has loosened our grip on linearity in our perception of time significantly. Which I view as an unabashedly positive thing. Why should we all be forced into living as if life moved in a straight line?

Nature has given the impression of being keen on rhythms like seasonal transitions but the more human life bangs on the planet the less it seems like seasons matter either. I’m less sure if that’s a net benefit like losing a linear sense of time (that was always bullshit) but losing nature’s rhythms is a bit weirder.

It’s the first official day of spring in the northern hemisphere and its snowing in Colorado right now. And we just dug ourselves out of over two feet of snow from a significant blizzard. The only indicator that seasonal change is upon us is day and night reaching equilibrium.

I’m having mixed feelings on the season of rebirth. A kind of shaken manic state has taken hold of our emotions with the possibility that the pandemic could be tamed. With vaccines rolling out quickly giddy conversations about summer reunions and family travel are cropping up. Friends are sounding optimistic about seeing each other again..All while we don’t really know if things will actually be better with a number of unknowns in the ether.

I’m not sure I want to change my lifestyle for a post pandemic world. Much as I’m praying vaccines remain effective and same. The pandemic has revealed many elements of our past lives to be unsustainable. I like being home. I like office life being considered less productive than the freedom to work from where you wish. . And I really like not having to socialize for professional reasons. I hope we keep the best elements. If I felt safe that all the accessibility was going to remain maybe I’d feel ready to celebrate spring. As it is I have some snowy winter worries on what life will look like as we step out of the cold into a new spring.

I keep a daily journal with some terse observations. I found it a manageable habit over the course of several years. So I was disappointed to look back over January 24th’s 2020 log today. It seemed as if everything in my life had slightly better metrics.

I couldn’t quite figure this out as I think in general my life is going quite well. I’m happily living in Colorado. I’m near my parents (even if needed isolation has meant seeing a lot less of them than hoped). I’ve had some excellent health breakthroughs thanks to more holistic care available in Boulder. So why did it seem like I was struggling more year over year?

And then I realized, oh of course, I just got used to the pandemic. The stress is clearly more but I’ve acculturated. Last January it hadn’t hit daily life yet. The daily stress and turmoil of an uncontrolled disease was still in its “oh shit if this hits us it will be bad phase.” A year along and I’ve become accustomed to the little indignities and struggles of pandemic living. But even as I’m happy with the changes it’s brought to my life it has sadly lowered the quality of life in meaningful ways for everyone. I don’t like dwelling on this as I need the improvements to be meaningful too. And I’m sure they are in ways I’ll appreciate once (if?) this all goes back to normal. But I know it’s going to be another six months from here.

I’m generally optimistic about my preparedness for all types of outcomes. And I am thrilled for the four year reprieve that comes with not having to constantly hear about political news. But this is all still taking its toll. So maybe it’s ok if my medication load is a little higher. I’m alive and well. Who cares if I need a bit more support. If I don’t feel like I look and move as beautifully and easily as I hoped that’s alright in the face of a generational crisis. I can take it easy on myself. If it’s all frustration and pain that’s no way to live. I don’t need to fight for progress every inch of the way. Sometimes it’s alright just to be comfortable and alive.