Why settle for "Normal?"

Every time we do something….again…the way we used to…going to the symphony or the theater, bringing back traditions we’d set aside or modified in a pandemic at my school; dinner with a group of friends with whom we used to do that semi-regularly…I feel such a mix of feelings. “Ohhh…this feels good“ but I also feel a little sad. Sad for what we’ve lost, maybe? I go through this roller coaster ride of emotions. Each time. Music starts at the beginning of a concert, tears spring into my eyes and I want to cry and feel an outpouring of joy in the exact same moment. But what I won’t let myself say is “it feels so normal.”

I’ve been trying to write about what I think is wrong with “back to normal” for at least a year and every time I start, I stop, stuck because I think the concept of “normal” is a myth we tell ourselves.  Early on in this Covid world, I wrote about how “I just wanted to get back to normal,” or maybe even a “new normal.” That was my hope. I felt like if we could just get back to how life was in 2019 or create the perfect "new normal," then everything would be fine. But would it? 

I’m not so sure anymore. During that summer of 2020, as protests and racial unrest took hold throughout the country, I started recognizing that the “normal” I so desperately craved wasn’t so great for a good portion of our country. That one person’s normal is another person’s hard time. For so many people, they probably don’t want to go back to that normal where important discussions don't happen and we stop trying to fix the wrongs of the past. They want a normal where those aren't a thing. 

And as I thought more about it earlier this year, it occurred to me that the quest for "normal" comes at the expense of making needed and important change in so many areas of our lives. How schools operate. What’s important for the greater good. Dealing with hard things, such as poverty, hunger, shootings, race, women’s rights, gender roles, voting rights, a global pandemic. The very things that some people wish were "back to normal" could actually be improved upon in ways that could make things better for more of us than just some of us.

 I feel strongly that it was the urge to just “get back to normal” that’s made coming back from this pandemic so difficult. People who couldn’t see the greater good in distancing or masking or vaccinating and fought each mitigation effort so strongly, creating even bigger divisions. But the thing is…NONE of this was normal and there really is no "normal" to get back to anymore, I don’t think.

And now, as we get so excited about doing the things we used to do, we forget to step back and see if there’s a way we could improve on these things…put new systems in place. A perfect opportunity to reframe and retool is something we’re so quickly squandering before we even try, all at the expense of going “back to normal.” 

None of this is to say that I don’t want the things I (or we) missed so much to come back. Because that’s not what I’m saying, at all. As I sat listening to a live music performance in an intimate setting the other night, I was thinking about what I’ve written here and my feelings about returning to normal. The music washed over me...tears sprang to my eyes. Of course I want the things back. Traditions are important and matter greatly. 

And yet, there are so many traditions that we used to take for granted as “normal.” But we now know they’re so much more than that. They’re treasures to be enjoyed and are fragile reminders of things that can quickly and easily get lost or go away.  Traditions and "normal" aren't the same thing. And for me, I intend to never take any of these beloved traditions for granted again. 

Winston Churchill once said, “Perfection is the enemy of progress.” But if you ask me, I actually  think it’s "normal" that’s the “enemy of progress.” It’s hard to see the many ways we can improve things if all we want is to “get back to normal.” 

On years ending and years beginning

I have a note in my Notes App that I started in March of 2020. I just write on it. Beginnings of blog posts, posts, tweets, songs. Thoughts I want to not forget. Some get posted. Many don’t.

As this year that feels like three entered its last few hours,  my husband was watching a football game. My dog was passed out, wrapped tight in her Thundervest because of revelers’ fireworks. And  I was listening to a rebroadcast of the Avett Brothers’ NYE concert from last year while reading some of the things I've written on my note. In 2020, I wrote and published 12 blog posts on my Jenuine Thoughts blog. In 2021, I did it twice. I’ve started and stopped writing about how we need to stop trying to “get back to normal” and instead start working toward a better future no less than four times. I’m going to write that for real this year..

I don’t really know how to write about this year that’s ending. When a year that’s been marked by a traitorous insurrection, an interminable pandemic, campaigns of disinformation intended to sow hatred, distrust & polarization and bigotry that festers out in the open ends with the death of a national icon, what is there left to say? 2021 ended in much the same way 2020 ended: Spiking Covid numbers. Deniers denying. Believers believing. People fighting online. 

It’s hard to feel excited and hopeful for a new year when things feel sort of hopeless. And yet, New Years is a time to do just that. Reflect on what you may have done in the past year. Feel hopeful for a better future. And so I will. 

In no particular order, I  learned new ways of eating and cooking. Walked  and got back to in-person fitness classes. Read more books. Listened more and reflected more. A new dog entered our lives and quickly made herself at home, bringing with her boundless love and energy.

Some of my apps summed up the year in numbers for me. I met my GoodReads goal of 37 books. That’s almost 12,000 pages. According to Spotify, I listened to almost 12,000 minutes of music. And listened to my “most listened to song” 203 times. Last week, I logged into MyFitnessPal for the 3000th day in a row. My watch says I logged 481 workouts in 2021. 

As I look at my "Second a Day" video for the year, it might be missing some of the people of past years, but it still tells the story of a life well-lived. A year that brought me my dog, time at home with my husband that I wouldn’t trade for anything, introduced me to Ted Lasso, a vaccine that made the future seem a bit brighter and saw countless stories of people helping people isn’t a total wash. It’s really just life.  I mean, even on Little House, during tough times, Pa still played his fiddle at night, right?

And so here’s what I look forward to in ’22. An end to the pandemic (or at least its becoming endemic and something we learn to coexist with), connection with friends, back deck bonfires, workouts, and so many more books. Puzzles and Legos to build, time with my family and music to play, sing and listen to.

Writing about 2021 and what to look forward to in 2022 has been tough, something I’ve been playing with in my head for a couple of days. At the same time, I’ve been stumped trying to think of my “One Word” for 2022. Last year, it was “enough,” the year before that, “strength.” What “one word” is the one that can help guide me as I move into this new year? And after a day of thinking about this, I’ve decided it’s simply this: Be.