A New Year’s reflection on my COVID experience

These 10 months of COVID have been filled with a lot of suffering, disappointment, and emotional unrest — but a lot of essential learning that we can bring forward as well.

Summer 2020 in Newport, RI — oof, masks can get hot….they feel better in these winter months!

April 2019 — I moved New York City, jumping out of my skin with excitement at the promise of the city’s opportunity for me. I danced, I made new friends, I had unforgettable experiences. I cried, I experienced loneliness, I questioned my life’s path.

March 2020 — at the specter of COVID-19, I left the city for my mother’s home in Newport, RI, where I lived from high school to college. I left with a small suitcase of clothes and no idea when I’d be coming back.

August 2020 — For a variety of personal and practical reasons, I decided to stay here in my mother’s home indefinitely. I saw New York last when my father drove us down there to get the rest of my stuff. My lease expired a few weeks later. I was sad and disappointed at the loss of what else New York City could have been for me, but grateful to have a safe place to go and all my basic needs (in that, and much else, I’m privileged, I know).

These ten months have included a lot of learning, creative energy, dancing and yoga practice in my room, career successes and turbulence, and generally doing what I can to make it work in this topsy-turvy COVID world — and pancakes with my mom, pet snuggles, and feelings of being safe at home. I recognize the level of privilege I have while stating this — it feels great, for once, to not rush around a busy city all day every day.

Going into spaces with other people certainly feels less safe — masked up, physically distant as possible from others, and fearful of anyone getting too close. Human beings weren’t meant to live without physical contact with other human beings — but deadly viruses don’t care about our innate biology and physiology. I’ve seen the dance and yoga communities come together with incredible resourcefulness and resilience — while not being able to experience that human contact that is such a part of who we are and what we do, not to mention the disappointment and sadness at the loss of everything that’s had to be cancelled.

Human beings weren’t meant to live without physical contact with other human beings — but deadly viruses don’t care about our innate biology and physiology.

Outside of my bubbles, I would be remiss to not underscore the resourcefulness and resilience of first responders, parents of young children working from home, teachers figuring out how to transfer their lessons to a virtual format, electeds fighting to get aid out there to people who need it (admittedly, others not so much), and — truly — anyone who’s had the courage to rethink norms and paradigms to meet the moment, and simply keep showing up and giving all they can in the face of so much uncertainty and fear.

The RI state flag — and, with open minds and hearts, something that we can find even in dark times

It’s undeniable that there’s so much suffering out there right now — people losing loved ones and not being able to mourn their loss in community, people becoming unemployed, people having trouble making ends meet because of COVID lockdowns, people having to cancel key events or perhaps even step away from their dreams for the moment. The uncertainty of when things will go back to normal can be mentally and emotionally exhausting; we’re wired to seek understanding for safety, from the very beginnings of our species. Constant uncertainty can put us into constant fight or flight. I won’t get on my self-care soapbox — but, self-care.

The uncertainty of when things will go back to normal can be mentally and emotionally exhausting; we’re wired to seek understanding for safety, from the very beginnings of our species. Constant uncertainty can put us into constant fight or flight. I won’t get on my self-care soapbox — but, self-care.

Yet through all of that hardship, here’s where we can find the opportunity out of the adversity — we can forever have a reminder to treasure what really matters in our lives. Once we beat this virus, I hope that we never again take for granted family gatherings, going to the movies, doing errands without fear or restrictions, a favorite cafe, seeing a friend we haven’t seen in a while, traveling on a whim — and that list goes on. For me, dance and yoga classes, going into a fancy theater with a friend to see dance, having coffee with someone I haven’t seen in a while, and traveling to favorite cities will always hold a special resonance for me.

As I write this on New Year’s Eve, I’m feeling contemplative about the year behind and anticipating the year ahead — but beyond that, about the opportunity we have to rebuild a better world. With a newfound gratitude and centering of things that really matter (I hope) — family, friends, safety, health, solidarity and caring for one another — we have a chance to restructure overarching systems with those values at the center.

I hope that we never again take for granted life’s little treasures, like seeing a show with a friend that we haven’t seen in a while.

We can work together to ensure that everyone has their basic needs, and to solve the looming climate crisis that literally holds all life on Earth in the balance. We can drastically reform factory farming to end the mass suffering of millions of sentient beings and finally serve — rather than be a detriment to — human public health. We can reform the criminal justice system to one that actually protects our communities, and in so doing leave behind the racist status-quo.

We can try to never depart from a loved one with angry words, knowing that we can’t know how long they’ll be in our lives. We can know that our time on this planet is finite, so we must center our lives on what really matters to us — an in service, so that we leave the world better than we found it. We must ask ourselves how we can serve and leave the world a better place. If COVID-19 has taught us anything, it’s to not take for granted, and that the only constant is change. It’s shown us that every day counts, so make it count for you, your community, and the world.

With a newfound gratitude and centering of things that really matter (I hope) — family, friends, safety, health, solidarity and caring for one another — we have a chance to restructure overarching systems with those values at the center.

Let’s take the lessons of COVID and build a better world — you ready?

Originally published at https://kb1moves.wixsite.com on November 13, 2020.