Did I miss the memo? Is the pandemic over?
I ask not because life is slowly but surely creeping back to normal in much of Europe and the US. Nor because of the rising vaccination rates, the opening of borders or the fact that many of us are returning to the office. I ask because at some point I decided it was time to go full speed ahead again, and I’m not sure when or why.
In my mind now, for most of the day at least, it’s like the pandemic no longer exists, nor did it ever happen.
I’m pitching for work like there’s no tomorrow (nothing quite like a pandemic to make you face your mortality). I’m making plans to travel from September onwards. And, most tellingly, I’m putting immense pressure on myself to make up for lost time and have all the answers.
Yesterday, preferably.
A false sense of urgency
And it’s this sense of having ‘lost time’ that has given me this awful (and sudden) sense of urgency. Because 2020 and much of 2021 was essentially ‘robbed’ from us, I suddenly feel like I need to achieve everything – every single goal and dream I’ve had since my teens – right now.
I say this sense of urgency is awful because it’s a lot of pressure. My mental health for much of last year (as for most of us) wasn’t great. I had constant anxiety and was unable to be productive or concentrate for long on anything, whether that be work or hobbies. As a result, everything I was working on got pushed to the sidelines.
But even if I do feel like I’ve lost a year, it doesn’t mean that now is the time to push through and to hell with well-being and mental health. I’d argue we need to take things slow for now.
I started pitching for work again recently, as most of the work contracts that I was under at the beginning of the year have come to an end. As part of this process, I found a bunch of spreadsheets, marketing materials and pitches I was working on in the days leading up to when the pandemic hit.
Finding these materials felt like what I imagine it would feel to wake up in a post-apocalyptic world a decade later and to find your home in the way you’d left it when you had to run away as the zombies descended.
It was disconcerting, it was poignant, and it made me realise just how much last year has impacted me.
Facing up to pandemic-induced fear
It was also useful to find these documents, because it made me realise why I’ve been struggling to keep fear at bay. As I start to revitalise my freelance writing business and look at my long held dream of starting a social enterprise, I feel this overwhelming sense of dread.
And is it surprising? We’ve just lived through a life-changing world event. It’s the very definition of “what’s one of the worst things that can happen?”
Our strength as humans lies in our resilience. We can adapt to pretty much anything that life throws at us. But there’s always the danger of not pausing to take stock of what has just happened and of trying to power through the difficult emotions because we don’t want to feel them.
And I guess that’s what I’ve been subconsciously trying to do: power through and pretend that the pandemic didn’t happen. Newsflash: It did, and it’s still going on.
An invitation to slow down
I’m writing this today to remind you (and myself!): it’s okay to take it slow. In fact, I advise that you do. I understand the desire to want to get back to some semblance of normal, but the truth is, we’re not going back there. We’re adapting to that dreaded “new normal” (sorry, I hate that expression too), and it will take time to find our feet and start to thrive again.
I feel like the pandemic was like winter. Trees were barren. The ground was frozen. Everyone was hibernating. We’re just starting to get to spring. Little buds of leaves are starting to appear on trees. The ground is starting to thaw. And we’re starting to emerge, slowly but surely, from our hiding spots.
I feel the pandemic was like winter. Trees were barren. The ground was frozen. Everyone was hibernating. We’re just starting to get to spring. Little buds of leaves are starting to appear on trees. The ground is starting to thaw. And we’re starting to emerge, slowly but surely, from our hiding spots.
There’s a lot of wisdom to be found in nature, and just like we need spring before we get to summer, we need this period of adjustment before we start to fly again. We need to ease our way back in, not power through.
Reflect, process, and move forward
Use this adjustment period to take it slow. Prioritise self-care. Choose comfort and compassion over pushing through and self-criticism. Take the time to reevaluate your life in light of everything that happened. It’s likely the way you look at the world and your life has changed. And maybe it hasn’t. But either way, I feel this is the time to take a step back and see what is working and what no longer serves you.
Maybe you’ve realised that you want to spend less time at work. Maybe you want to start a venture of your own. Maybe you want to spend more time on your hobbies. Maybe you want to travel more when all of this is over. Maybe you want to volunteer. Maybe you want to do less.
Take that step back and take your time.
Slow down to move forward
I took some time off recently because I realised that I was spinning. I had thrown myself back into work and was pressuring myself to find all the answers to questions that need time to percolate.
So, I went to the beach, I read books, I went on a little road trip, I took pictures, I ate amazing food. Most importantly, I removed any pressure to get things done. And I feel so much lighter and better now.
It was the right thing to do.
I think one of the biggest lessons the pandemic taught us is that the old way of life wasn’t working. And yet, so many of us are trying to launch ourselves back into that same mode of being – of constantly “doing.” Well, I was anyway. And if you are too, I invite you to take that step back and allow yourself the time to readjust to what’s happened before moving forward.
Give yourself permission to do the things you enjoy, to go slower than usual, to only do what feels comfortable. Your to-do lists, goals, and dreams aren’t going anywhere. But reaching for the stars is no fun if your batteries are depleted. Fill your cup first – your mental health will thank you for it.
