What Do We Do With 2020?
2020 was a dumpster fire of a year. Now that we’re in December, it’s really tempting to close the lid, hope the fire goes out and move on.
But, that would be a huge disservice to ourselves because we’ve learned a lot this year - about ourselves, about the world, about our families, our capabilities and what we need/don’t need. I invite you to be a little more intentional and introspective about 2020 - or at least the last nine months.
Before the pandemic, we were chronically overscheduled. Remember all the running to something you did in the Before Times? Remember how you felt like you never had enough time? (P.S. You may also feel like this now because this is really about boundaries and priorities).
In March, we suddenly unscheduled. No more soccer for our kids, or drinks after work. No more commutes to the office for most of us, in person meetings, or driving from thing to thing to thing. At the time, a friend of mine said, “I didn’t realize how overscheduled my kids are.”
We watched more TV, we cleaned our closets, we seriously stressed about how COVID is transmitted and what we should wipe down/who we could be near/how to wear our masks, we cared for loved ones, we became proficient in Zoom. Days turned to weeks turned to months. We invented new words for how time passes - my favorite is “Blursday”. We wondered whether we would make it through. There has been a lot of true awfulness this year as the virus rampaged our country and our economy, and as we have been cut off from people we love and routines and customs that steady us.
And, there have also been beautiful things. We started a routine of local take out and family TV time on Friday and Saturday nights. My whole family - even the teenager - looks forward to ending the week together. Breaks during the day for my youngest to hug his stuffed animals; my oldest discovering the joy of long walks alone. These are little nuggets of gold in the dumpster that I don’t want to miss when the lid closes on 2020.
The questions I find I am asking myself this December are these - when things start to get better:
What do I want to intentionally let go?
What do I want to keep from this time?
Eventually we will turn a corner on COVID. There will be a vaccine. Things will slowly - very slowly - get better over a (longer than we would like) period of time. That will happen.
When it does, we have the opportunity to intentionally add things back into our lives.
What do you want to let go, and what do you want to keep?
For myself, I no longer care if I ever go to another work dinner. No more dry chicken in a hotel ballroom, thanks very much. I would rather be home with my family enjoying take out and TV.
But I do really miss seeing my friends. I miss the casual conversations on the soccer field, and giving someone a hug because I’m so glad to see them. As I sat with these questions, I realized that those spontaneous, easy conversations are a vital nutrient that is deficient in my system. I’ll not take those for granted again, and I am committed to find ways to bring these conversations back - whether it’s walking with a friend, or meeting someone for socially distant coffee.
What do these questions bring up for you? Get a journal and write down what comes to mind. Do this for yourself; do this with your kids; do this with your partner. Spend some time being intentional as we wrap up this year like no other. And don’t worry about what you think you should be doing. Tap into what you really, truly want. You have choices about what you keep and what you let go. Choose wisely. Choose intentionally. Choose what serves YOU.