One of the hardest aspects of quarantine has been forcing myself to slow down. During the school year, I’m continually filling every hour of my day with something that will keep me occupied. With the world coming to a standstill due to the global pandemic, however, many of the movements and decisions I’d become accustomed to making shut down, too. The lack of places to go/people to see/things to do has been quite exhausting. At times when I feel like I’m finally starting to catch my breath, the moment is overwhelmed by the reality that so much of the future is uncertain. Rather than surrender to the unknown, I still try to put up a defense–to create certainties in an era of uncertainties.
At the same time, I’ve also found a considerable amount of comfort in the slowed-down rate of living. For the first time in what feels like three years, I’ve been able to reflect on my experiences and fully come to appreciate the life I lead. Although I am nowhere near as productive as I used to be, I recognize that I’m not alone and don’t need to pack events into my schedule to feel valid. So as I try to relinquish my control and fully accept the unknown, here are a few things I’ve come to appreciate over the last several months:
– Every morning, I make coffee and sit outside for a few minutes. I like to catch my breath and verbally express what I intend to accomplish that day (it’s usually my LSAT homework).
– If I have to go to work, I’m grateful that I have a place to go. I’ve always tried to make a distinction between where I work and where I relax. To be able to still physically travel for work is something I will never take for granted again.
– I live less than five minutes from the Atlantic Ocean. There is something almost ethereal about letting the waves wash over me when I am feeling particularly anxious. My proximity to that experience is invaluable and I’m learning to treasure those moments.
– My family is healthy. My parents are still employed. I get to wake up every day and greet them. I never gave those circumstances a second thought. I recognize that my ability to ignore that part of my reality is an enormous privilege.
I expect I’ll continue to struggle at accepting (rather than fighting) the reality that much of the future is nestled in the unknown. But when has the future ever been entirely certain? As I sit here finishing up this post–still wearing my pajama shirt and clutching a fresh cup of coffee–I know that I don’t need to be moving to feel secure. I just need to keep living in a way that welcomes the present situation. And the future will follow all the same.
