It’s been a long haul, these six years since the pandemic changed the texture of ordinary life. Sometimes I think death would have been better — death in and of itself, not the struggle from health into demise.
Covid changed our lives in ways that had nothing to do with being forced to choose sides. The natural progression of humanity — how we connect, what helps us thrive, our sense of trust — eroded and forever altered.
Humanity losing its footing gave the powerful a wedge. A small piece to grab with their fingernail and slowly, almost imperceptibly, pull communities and psyches apart at every opportunity.
Perhaps Covid wasn’t the culprit, only the catalyst.
At the mere notion of lockdowns, empty shelves, and stark realities, I gave up a flourishing career, left my friends — and my favorite climate — to move closer to family. But honestly, that was so unfair to myself. What exactly did I think I would find? Whatever I imagined didn’t materialize.
Oddly, those closest to me — the ones still willing to communicate honestly — have all admitted they’ve hit the wall. As one person, young, vital and just starting his family, said this morning, “I was unraveling, then I shattered. Luckily, the shattering is fixable.”
Another, motioning his hands as though patting down bread dough, said, “I don’t want someone to just wave their hands and tell me my energy’s different now and I’ll be fine.” He wanted real consultation. Honest observation about the patterns that keep a person stuck. Real tools for real life.
Yesterday, I transferred my business license to a company more financially amenable. It felt like a huge weight had finally lifted. But when I woke this morning, into reality and without the endorphins of that easy transition, I was not any happier than prior to the company move.
It dawned on me that stirring my “life pot” was not bringing me joy. It was simply movement designed to manufacture relief, pleasure, or contentment. But real joy itself was nowhere in the offing.
We are all battling ourselves, really. Old wounds. Deep patterns. Latent anger masquerading as idiosyncrasy.
Consequential change requires the structure to collapse so something vital can take its place.
The fabric of what we’ve known — and how we believed we fit within it — is unraveling at warp speed. Many are grasping for another story to replace their own.
And beneath all of it, I find myself begging to experience my own true story, not just a replacement story.
Oddly, I want to hug the people reaching for replacement stories. Even they recognize that the status quo is a dead end.
To me, it’s all story now. Sadly, I’m unimpressed with the library being offered.
Better keep a good therapeutic practitioner on speed dial. I don’t even care whether insurance covers it anymore. Laughably, that too is part of the story.
Postscript: I may sound crazy or depressed. But I am saner and more balanced than those judging. Many would do well to pull themselves out of the chaos long enough to find and evaluate their center. This is just another time of immense growth.
