These are surreal times. Who would have thought one year ago that we would be here—talking about a virus that has become front and center in our lives? It’s the main topic in all the news and social media, and in conversation with family and friends. None of us knows what to expect or when it will be safe again to do the things we have taken for granted for most of our lives. Wearing masks will become part of our lives, using disinfectant on our hands likewise. We will think twice before we go to events where a lot of people will be attending. We will think twice about going to concerts, to sporting events, even to church. We will perhaps be more reserved about hugging and touching others. I don’t know how I feel about it all; I alternate between feeling numb and feeling a bit melancholy. And when I don’t feel numb or melancholy, I am actually content. Because there is nothing we can do with the situation that has come upon us except to adjust to it as best we can. I’d love to travel to NY in August, but that won’t happen. Even if I wanted to, SAS cancelled the flight I had booked. And anyway, it’s not safe to travel to the USA right now. The EU has decided against letting Americans travel to Europe at present due to the high number of Covid19 cases in the USA. Regardless of whose fault it is or isn’t, the fact remains that the virus has hit the USA very hard. Questionable leadership has not made the situation any better.
I needed the reset. I needed the abruptness of the sudden stop to make me take a good long look around me, to see what is important and what isn’t. Much of my poetry during the past five years has hinted at the changes to come in my life, but I never considered that an outside player—a virus-- would be calling the shots. I no longer need the work world the way I did before, neither for intellectual stimulation nor for social interaction. There is very little of either nowadays, and it took being at home full-time to realize that. The ever-replenishing fountain of motivation that work used to be for me is gone—dried-up. I still have ideas for projects, but funding and personnel to realize them are non-existent. I have become a paper pusher, and even though much of what I do for my department is actually useful and I’m glad to be of service, I’m a paper pusher nonetheless and it’s not what I signed up for. In the long run it won’t be enough for me. If I had wanted to become an administrator, I would have pursued a business degree and not a doctorate in science. But it’s ok, because I’ve made specific decisions about how to deal with all of it. The pandemic gave me the time to figure it out and to make the decision. There are silver linings to every cloud; there is always something positive to take away from a negative situation. And as long as we have our health, we will continue to cope and to eventually get past this. Being at home is a good time to learn more about ourselves and the people with whom we share our lives. It is possible to be content in the midst of the chaos and unrest, sickness and death that exist around us and globally. It is possible to be realistically optimistic that life will be good again. Global society has had its reset button pushed, and hopefully most people are retuning their lives in order to meet the new world order.
