Is It The New Normal Yet?
We may have already made the most important choices about what comes next
My drafts folder is filled with attempts at neatly categorizing and prioritizing what I’d like to see happen in my own post-pandemic life — the achingly tantalizing concept of the “new normal.” Nothing was sticking. I’d get halfway through, hit a wall and abandon that direction waiting for new inspiration to strike. I wanted to write about the choices we have in who we talk to, and how we spend our time. It was meant to be a way for me to formalize for myself some of the Big Ideas I’ve had the privilege to focus on in isolation so I could add definition to the kind of life my instincts were shaping.
The trouble is the rest of the world. Right now, all I really see when I start to contemplate the future is my little bubble of safety, and reasons to hold back, slowly fading away.
Before the holidays I was interviewed by a reporter from The 19th who, on hearing my story, got really invested in the idea of 2020 being my “Year of Liberation.” Free from a bad marriage, free from a bad job, making my own way according to my own rules. It sounded awesome when she described it, but it didn’t feel that way. Even though so many major changes were for the best, they weren’t what I would have chosen. And even though I was making the best of things, I didn’t feel free. I felt trapped in a very stressful situation where all of the solutions seemed outside of my control.
Thinking of what to do next requires some serious mental recalibration. And change works on its own schedule. It doesn’t care about how many weeks away I am from a second vaccine dose, or that all of a sudden I have 30 free business hours in a way I’ve never had before, never mind during our recently concluded remote school days. And honestly, I’m a little gun shy. I was already trying to create a new normal when I moved to a new town after my divorce. And yet another when I was laid off and started my own business. I’m new normal-ed out!
Decision fatigue isn’t just a COVID phenomenon. It’s a boss thing and a single mom thing and an entrepreneur thing. It’s a ME thing. And nothing has made it more apparent than the past week I’ve spent trying to figure out what’s next now that the world is opening up again, allegedly. As frustrating as it was to write and start over and over again on a topic I really want to get a handle on, I realized that was new normal stuff. Drafts, iterations, pivots, that’s the name of the game now, baby.
Meanwhile, there are the deficits to consider. Let’s start with social interaction. I like to say I filled my party fun girl quota in my twenties, and while I’ll still hit the occasional middle aged person house party, I was already hermiting when lockdown hit. Then, I proceeded to spend 14 months with an 8 year old agent of chaos and 10 year old autistic dreamer as my primary conversation partners. Love ’em, but my kids are not my peers. And every conversation I did have with a peer was pre-planned and set within a specific block of time. I talked to the mom of my son’s friend the other day and afterwards wondered if I did okay. Like, was I shouting? Did I say anything inappropriate? I don’t even know.
The promise of vaccination brings with it even more decisions. Not just how to form a socially appropriate sentence, but how to socialize at all. And I’m not sure I’m ready. So many stimuli were removed from my day to day — mansplainers to start, but also people in stores, bustling restaurants — the possibility of sensory overload is real. I’m amazed every single day how quickly my kids reacclimated to being in school, but I’m preparing myself for the distinct possibility of light agoraphobia, at least for a little while. And I know I’m not the only one. As much as I want to be in a crowd of people on a field dancing to live music and eating food truck delicacies (a very specific vision, I realize, don’t judge), whether or not I can enjoy it is an actual mystery to me at the moment.
When the pandemic hit, I went into crisis decision making mode, which has always been one of my best modes. I cleared away the bullshit and focused on my goal of keeping the kids physically and emotionally safe, and their goal of keeping the vibe calm. These were excellent goals set during a time when I did not think they’d be long term. But the more I think about it, the closer I’m getting to codifying them. Maybe the new normal doesn’t start at the end of our unvaccinated lockdowns at all. There’s a chance they all began when the world first shut down and we made our most essential choices.
I really thought I was going to end up with some kind of list, at least one a little more detailed than “keep the kids safe and the vibe calm.” Lists are my thing. Visions. Plans. But somehow, after thousands of words on the matter you’ll never see, I’m lovingly taking the pressure off of myself to figure it out. It might be because I’m too tired to decide, or I’ve learned to accept more about what’s out of my control, or some other deep reason, but that doesn’t matter. My old normal was based on trusting myself. I’ll stick with that for now and see how it goes.
This article was originally published on LizaDube.com.
