"We made it."
Sporty texted that to me about ten minutes after midnight. Last year that wouldn't have been a statement that meant the same thing. Even as I've gotten older and found that father time is an old tricky bastard who steadily robs us of fashion sense, vitality, and older relatives, the term "we made it" still wouldn't have had the same resonance twelve months ago. Because after the year that was last year the simple concept of getting here is still something a lot of us can't comprehend.
If all you did last year was make it to this year, I'm proud of you.
Last year this onslaught of a decade of events stuffed into twelve short blurry months stripped away the last of the veneer of the differences between who we are and who we say we are. It showed a lot us who we really are, like down deep. Because under normal circumstances we all like to adjust and tinker with the picture that we show the world. Not necessarily fix it, but gloss over or touch up our faults and flaws, putting a little dab of color on those ugly spots on the canvas that make up the whole of us. Most of the time we get away with it. Last year changed that. We were confronted by nature, from fires raging across Australia to pandemic that shut down whole countries. We were confronted by injustice, as the hypocrisy and violence that happens in the shadows came to video for eight minutes and forty-six seconds and woman died in her sleep because someone lied. We were confronted with inherent biases, arrogance and stupidity as we waged a war of ideas for the future of this country. I barely even remember the murder hornets. We were confronted and had to own up to who we really were.
As it turns out, stripped down to the barest of who are there are entirely too many of us that can't discern the difference between a want and a need. We need groceries. We want our nails done. I enjoy a night out as much as the next person, but an evening of drinks and dancing just isn't prudent right now. I love sports, but not if it means the end of careers in a season that will be remembered as meaningless. Too many of us can't handle the math of large numbers and still think of this pandemic as binary, as either life or death, when the truth is that the large grey area in the middle we're ignoring are organ damage that may never heal. Too many of us have been unable to learn from the mistakes of others, and only see the light once we've met the virus up close. And finally many of us have had to realize that talk is cheap if we're not doing what we said we're doing. And sometimes even when we are doing what we said we're doing. We supposedly care about others, but then it turns out some of us really don't if we won't do the minimum to help them.
We also desperately need to believe that it's all behind us with the passing into the new year. But much like the national lines, state lines and county lines this virus ignores the calendar just like a short handed manager. Nobody knows how much longer until this is over, maybe weeks, or maybe we have a long way to go. Yes, we're all tired and frustrated, weary of the stories of death just over the hill or around the corner. But I don't need to see a dead body or find out how a ventilator works to be convinced. And I'm really hoping this is the start of the fourth quarter, not the end of the first half.
You'll note, I haven't called that year by name anywhere in here.
So what do I ask of you this year? The same as last year. The same as every year. To go and do something different. I know that last year forced a lot of us do just that by default. Work from home. Spend more time with our family. Explore new skills and hobbies if only to end the boredom. We've either built new bonds or torn down those false structures we'd come to hang our hats on. Life is funny like that. I started online Spanish Lessons this year. (Started...I'm still a novice, please to embarrass me.) And I've halfway explored a number of new dishes, read a couple books I regret, explored some new avenues of thought, started the second draft of one of the many novels I promised myself I would finish. We have time. I'm hoping I'm late with this advice. So go plant the garden, make the pie from the internet, read that book you swore you'd read, start your podcast, call your old college roommate, start walking, take on online class, renew your vows in the backyard in front of the dog. This pandemic thing isn't over yet. And with any luck we'll never get back to normal, but instead emerge into something new, better and more equitable going forward.
Now, this year is more existential than normal. I live alone, and there were days this year where I didn't leave the house for two and a half weeks at a time. I've had a lot of conversations in my head. There have also been the occasional dance number and private concert, don't judge me. So the question here is, what have I learned...from inside my own head?
There is no time like now.
Win, lose or draw, success or failure, big money or snake eyes. Now is the time.
Every contact counts.
Living alone means every text, every zoom, every little bit of another person is a lot. Thank you.
I would really like a hug.
The things that we miss that we didn't realize we'd miss. There is a difference between an in-person conversation and and zoom.
Reality is becoming less a thing.
Far too often as of late our own little interpretation to suit our own ends and satisfy our own souls are replacing the actual facts. These little bubbles we've built are the next great cultural war.
Cooking means cleaning.
I have come to dislike building a meal from scratch, because it will involve cleaning everything I used. This wasn't so bad when I ate out a lot, but at one point I was cooking every meal.
Television is overrated.
I have probably watched less television this year than any other. The medium just doesn't feel the same anymore. Too passive. Books and open ended video games.
Lying to yourself is more harmful than having someone else lie to you.
You know the truth and chose to act like it wasn't. Because reasons. It's self defeating.
Fears are limits we gave ourselves.
I have fears. Some big, some little, but all mine. And it's my responsibility to face those fears. Because that lying to myself does not work.
Opportunity doesn't come with a bow.
We asked the universe for more time for important things, with family, to focus on ourselves, to rest. And it came. Wasn't quite what you were expecting, eh?
Commitment is key.
If we agree to do something, then we do it until it is finished. That's not a hard concept.
Consistency makes things easier.
For those things we are committed to, we must engage them regularly, consistently, habitually, until they are done.
Love.
Because it's always been about love. Every damn time.
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