Change is usually a constant in all our lives, though for more than a year we have isolated ourselves at home, stopped going anywhere, and put our entire lives “on hold” as we waited for something.
This is us, not going anywhere. This is everyone not going anywhere, for more than a year.
Yes, the initial lockdown, the self-quarantine, the shutdowns, upended our routines. Our lives changed dramatically in a matter of days or weeks. However, that initial disruption quickly morphed into something else: a mind-numbing routine that didn’t change. For many creative people that routine, that isolation and lack of contact with the world, has stagnated our creativity.
I mentioned this a couple months ago, and since then I have heard from many creative friends that they are struggling with the effort to create anything.
This is more than not filling the well. We have found ways to do that without taking risks.
It’s also more than lacking contact with other creatives. We’ve found ways around that too, with video chats and Zoom calls and group messaging.
It’s a feeling of isolation that goes beyond all of these, a feeling of being isolated from our own creativity, being unable to reach that well of inspiration and creation that feeds us on an emotional and spiritual level.
Isolation. Separation. There is a barrier keeping us from our creative lives.
I don’t have an answer for this soul-deep malaise. I don’t even know if there is an answer, except to hold on just a little longer.
Because a change is coming. Things are getting better.
There is a ray of hope on the horizon, and it is growing with every passing day.
There is a light coming toward us. It's hope, lighting the way for us if we can just hold on a little longer, not an oncoming train!
I honestly have been afraid to hope for a long time. I couldn’t look ahead because the prospects were bleak, and I didn’t know how long I would have to hold myself together. I could make it to tomorrow, or next week.
But another month, or six months? That took more resilience, and I wasn’t sure I had it. It was safer not to look, not to plan, so that the enormity of what faced us didn’t overwhelm me.
Not all of that has changed, but some things have, and I am beginning to believe again.
For the first time in months I am starting to trust the future again.
The biggest change for me, as it has been for so many of us, is the availability of a vaccine. And not just one, but three vaccines.
This is what hope looks like!
The distribution has been frustrating for many of us. No appointments, long waits, rules that are subject to change, limited supplies – there’s a long list of irritants and complications. But for the most part those issues are getting ironed out as time goes on and we gain experience with the requirements of the system.
It has been particularly stressful for me because Oregon has mandated some strict age guidelines. My husband has several underlying conditions, but age is not one of them and as a result he has not been eligible to receive a vaccine in our state (and we certainly weren’t going to travel anywhere!). I felt like a creep for wanting him to go ahead of other people – people who were just as deserving, whose families were just as concerned for them – but there have been moments when I couldn’t prevent myself from feeling angry, fearful, and helpless.
I wish I could say I was better than that, but I’m not. (Remember, when I started this I promised “warts and all.” This is a big wart.)
However, we have been fortunate. Here in Oregon we have several jurisdictions which are not subject to the state mandate. They’re called tribal lands, and they are their own jurisdiction, with their own rules, and their health clinics have opened registration to the public.
How and why they are able to do this I can only speculate. But whatever the reasons it means that my under-65 husband was able to get a vaccination just over a week ago, only a couple weeks after I got my first shot.
The feeling of relief in our household has been palpable. It has given me reason to hope that we can reclaim our lives.
We can see the light, and we know it's coming!
We are still cautious, and will remain so. Masks will remain a fact of life for months – or years – to come, at least until the CDC changes their recommendation. If that never changes, we can live with that; because we will live, and that’s the bottom line.
We do intend to travel, cautiously and with a great deal of advance planning. We do intend to see our families as soon as it is safe to do so. We do intend to question the inoculation status of anyone with whom we interact – even though we are protected we don’t want to contribute to anyone else catching this horrid virus.
Change is coming, and I feel that it will be for the good. It will allow all of us to reclaim our lives in some fashion. We may never go back to the way things were, but we will find a new way to live.
Because change is constant, and will be constant in our lives.