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Dealing with the intense changes of 2020
Humans are creatures of habit. We’re reluctant to transformations and changes. We post words of contempt when our apps update their platforms. We drag our feet bi-yearly with the rewinding of the clocks. We groan behind the new protection of our facemasks. But eventually, slowly and furtively… we adapt. We forget the brown hues of Instagram’s ancient widget. We grow accustomed to winter’s abysmal darkness. We recognize our neighbors with just their eyes.
It would be an understatement to proclaim that 2020 has dropped a bag full of change over our heads like a cartoon anvil. We watched as people and animals fled their homes from the fires around the globe. Our hands cracked from excessive sanitizer and soap. We entertained ourselves inside for months. We lost physical contact with our circles. Our grandmas became tech savvy. We waited anxiously for election results behind screens and signs and mail-in ballots. We mourned the loss of loved ones and the loss of strangers.
With all this change comes great unrest and anguish.
Our routines have been prodded like a goat in a petting zoo. Our comfort has spilled all over the floor and stained the carpet. Our nerves have lashed out, whether we’ve tried to control them or not.
Last week I finally returned to working in person. The night before, I found myself clinging to the couch, nails sunk deep into my pilling sweatpants. The world around me had changed. I no longer greeted people with kisses or hugs, but with a nod and a masked smile. I missed seeing the faces of my students and learning with them. I missed the chaos and the silent moments between classes. I missed the feeling of accomplishment and meaningful stress… but I wasn’t ready to be catapulted back into my old reality of early mornings and late evenings.
I’d been working from home since March. It had been eight months since I stepped foot in a classroom. Eight months since I’d seen my students’ faces without the static blur of our computer screens. Since I’d squeezed myself into a pair of jeans. Months ago, when the pandemic reached Spain and we fled into lockdown, my brain panicked at the thought of teaching online. I couldn’t fathom how I’d coach English to second language learners via Zoom meetings. But, after eight months of ‘please unmute yourself’ and instructing to tiny black squares instead of faces… I couldn’t recall how I ever had the energy to leave the house and interact with the outside world for 12 hours every day.
What is it about change that injects such dread into our chests?
I think it’s fear of the unknown. It’s why we stay in the same town year after year, dreaming of someone else’s life, but never buying the plane ticket. It’s why we remain in empty relationships with people who don’t quite fit. It’s the fear of not finding love again. Of being alone. Of rejection. Of failing.
Some changes are inevitable. The unwelcome hairs that grow as new hormones flood developing bodies. The leaves that brown and fall and clear away for new seasons. The silver streaks and the losses that arrive in our homes, unexpectedly. We deal with the inexorable. We create new paths. We buy hair dye and products to display or to cover the transition.
We go to the grocery store, like any other day, despite the fact that the world is no longer the way it was before.
I’m steadily adapting to the aberrations of my new routine. Some changes we get to choose. I will choose to make positive alterations to the cozy, yet slightly self-destructive nest I’d made during lockdown. Energy begets energy. I’ve made a plan to kindle the flames of change.
Here are the ways I’m harnessing the energy needed to embrace the nerve-wracking newness in my life:
Wake up with a podcast that entertains and inspires you
If you’re someone who, no matter how early you go to sleep, still hit snooze three to four times before crawling out of bed… this is for you. Reward yourself with morning treats — like looking forward to a new podcast. Once you find a good one. It’ll pull you out of bed like the smell of frying bacon. Instead of focusing on the mountain of a day you’ve got to climb, listen to stories and interviews and news from around the world. Try these podcasts: Death, Sex & Money; The Daily; My Favorite Murder; This American Life; Co-Conspired Conversations; This Is Actually Happening; and Fall of Civilizations.
Change up your commute to work
I live in a city and am fortunate enough to be able to be creative in my commute to work.
If you need energy: bike. Experience the rush of adrenaline as you attempt to pass city buses and cars honking at red lights. Remind yourself to buy a helmet. Avoid slippery street grates. Feel speedy and powerful and healthy. Arrive alert and hyper and a little bit sweaty.
If your podcast is really good: walk. Take in the sights and the smells and the people shoving each other around corners to make it to work in time. Welcome the cold, morning air on your cheeks. Regret wearing heeled boots. Stroll through the pain and the construction and the drowsiness. Make mental notes to invest in better shoes. Arrive at work with a clear mind and sore phalanges.
If you wake up late and are in the mood for music and laziness: take the bus or the metro. Not because taking public transportation is lazy, but because you can function in autopilot. Listen to “groovy” playlists on Spotify and walk to the bus stop like a zombie with coffee. Scan metro pass. Stare blankly out the window. Make zero mental notes. Exit the sliding doors after exactly 12 minutes. Arrive at work a little hazy. Wake up as your coworkers look to you with expectant eyes.
Go outside for lunch
Leave the work environment to rejuvenate your senses. Avoid microwaving last night’s pasta in the sad dark common room with the coworker who only talks about their hairless cat. Sit in a coffee shop, even if it’s just for 45 minutes. Order a piece of cheesecake and eat each bite alone while reading your novel or browsing through endless Medium articles. Make a list of what you need to do to finish the day, including things you’ve already accomplished so that you can cross them off and feel good about yourself.
Plan exciting recipes to cook for dinner
Have the fridge stocked with the ingredients you need so that you don’t have to deal with crabby 7 p.m. grocery store goers after work. Make something exotic and tangy. Try a new recipe. Resort to an old favorite. Put on music and get lost in chopping and frying and stirring. Choose three recipes from Half Baked Harvest each week… and look forward to making creamy sun-dried tomato orzo to get you through the drudgiest of days.
Make plans with people
Make plans with people… instead of waiting for them to make plans with you. Go for a glass of wine in a new spot after work each Wednesday. Choose a friend who always has new stories to tell you. Take a cooking class or a Spanish lesson on Thursdays. Go to a salsa or a yoga class. If you don’t make plans ahead of time, it’s too easy to come home and watch reruns of “The Great British Bake Off” on your couch until ultimately just eating a frozen pizza and falling asleep without washing your face.
Have a night to do absolutely nothing
Come home. Take your pants off and order take out (put pants back on before answering the door). Get into a new TV series or make a list of movies to watch. Buy long stem candles and fill your apartment with them. Light them with a match (it has to be a match) and snuggle in the presence of their small flames in front of your TV. Drink tea or wine or a whiskey on the rocks with long fuzzy socks on.
Take long walks without a destination
Sometimes alone, sometimes with a friend who you feel comfortable having silence with. Take a different street each time and find places you didn’t know existed. Look for hidden street art and the best trees in the city. Find balconies or front porches to be envious of and imagine the lives of the people who live there. Wonder if they enjoy it as much as you would.
Make at least one plan for the weekend
Maybe that means doing the trek to Ikea or taking a train on a day trip. Plan one adventure, whether big or small, so the weekend doesn’t slip by without having left your home at all. You’ll cherish the time alone and become energized by having accomplished one or two things. You might not be able to avoid the Sunday Scaries (especially if you’re a teacher like me)… but you’ll have harnessed that positive energy needed to survive the changes of Monday.
Being back at work certainly isn’t the same as living in my sweatpants with nothing but endless Digestive biscuits, novels, writing time, and vacillating between self-loathing and self-pampering. It’s a bittersweet change, but at least I’m building a path forward and out of the house, instead of from the couch to the kitchen.