These days, I don’t always know whether I am coming or going—a feeling that is, no doubt, a result of having my schedule ripped away and cast to the wind. It’s a disorienting feeling—the pieces don’t fit together as seamlessly as they once did. The pieces of daily life feel loose and rattly, like a few screws need to be tightened in order to set the world back on its right trajectory. I am doing my best to stay grounded.
These days, I look for reassurance and grounding in the little things—tangible evidence that I have completed a task, continued to move forward, that I am surviving (though maybe not thriving) in a challenging world. Colorful dishes full of leftovers in the fridge indicate that I made dinner last night, that it wasn’t just a dream. And they provide information on what I made so I don’t have a repeat performance tonight. I never used to rely on the visual because I always had a plan. Now, it seems, most of the things I do are on a wing and a prayer. Everything seems to be holding together so far….
These days, pandemic life has created a certain degree of turmoil through which I stumble without feeling. My awareness, once fairly acute, fails me on a daily basis. I am forgetful and unfocused as I attempt to remain on track to check items off my to-do list.
These days, I cannot make it through without a daily check list. I complete one item, and I move on to the next. Check—done! Next? I would not remember all I have to do if I didn’t write it down when I think of it. Am I suffering from the effects of age or the pandemic? Write it down, cross it off. I move down the list with a robotic accuracy, writing and crossing off, lest anything be forgotten.
These days have been difficult. We don’t have the consistency of the schedule we have followed for years and years without interruption. My work-life is built around the school year—the same schedule I’ve followed since I was five or maybe younger—but this year, it is different. We are creatures of habit and routine and orderliness. Our schedules have been ripped from us—along with our plans, our projects, our dreams, etc.—and held in suspension just a little too high for us to grasp. When we are finally able to regain all that we have lost, we know life will no longer be the same.
These days are hard, but they will pass. One day, this will all be a distant memory, and our grandchildren will look at us with fascination as we tell them about the COVID pandemic of 2020. In the meantime, I am trying hard to tap into my patience, my persistence, and a little bit of resilience. These are the tools that are going to be most useful in getting through these days.