The things we want to remember
Enjoy this glimpse of a Sweet Dumb Brain subscriber-only post!
Last Friday, Billy, baby, and I loaded into our car—packed to the brim with things that didn’t make it onto the moving van—and drove from Florida to Georgia. What should have been a 7-hour road trip took 11 long hours, thanks to extended stops at rest areas and several maddening traffic jams.
By the time we arrived at our new place, it was dark outside, we were exhausted, and the baby was sound asleep. We tiptoed inside, taking everything in for the first time while trying to keep our voices low. Billy was excited about the house, but I latched onto the negatives, pointing out various scuffs and scrapes, commenting where our furniture wouldn’t fit, and voicing other concerns aloud. That night, we slept on an air mattress in our cavernous bedroom. I mostly lay awake, wondering if we made a mistake.
By daybreak, things were looking much brighter, both literally and figuratively. This house is undoubtedly different from our old place, but it’s also a blank slate—a place for us to grow together, to call our own as a family of three. I saw the potential that Billy saw and felt the same enthusiasm. Once our furniture arrived, it was official: This is our new home. We are so very lucky to be here.
As I wrote last Tuesday, the past year has been unquestionably difficult for all of us. The pandemic upended most everything in our lives and took away the things we treasure most—hugging friends, spending time with family, celebrating milestones, and feeling safe, to name a few. It also clarified how much those things matter. That’s something I hope we don’t lose sight of in our rush to get vaccinated and resume a semblance of normalcy.
In many ways, our move to Atlanta was fueled by the pandemic. We are now in a house that functions better for two adults working from home, and is safer for a baby who’s more mobile by the minute. We are in a neighborhood that has easier access to hiking trails and more takeout options. Most importantly, we are closer to family and friends. On Sunday, we went on a neighborhood walk and were unexpectedly greeted by a friend of mine, who shouted hello as she drove past. Later that day, we celebrated both Easter and my brother’s birthday in his backyard—just a short jaunt around the corner, rather than a painstaking road trip between states!
Seeing familiar faces and gathering in person—albeit from a distance—felt wonderful. I didn’t take it for granted in the slightest. That night, before falling asleep on our real mattress in our now-cozy bedroom, I felt an odd sense of thanks for the pandemic and all the things it’s taught me.
At the end of Tuesday’s essay, I asked what you don’t want to let go of from pandemic life. The responses I received were thoughtful, wise, and illuminating. Here’s what you had to say.
“I don't want to let go of how I've turned inward and slowed down, resulting in my noticing more,” said Kara. “I feel more at peace and am kinder to myself, too. I'm going to be slow in growing my world again, because I don't want to lose this newfound way of being.”
Kara’s not the only one who appreciates the slower pace of life. Lee adores the “sun-filled glorious days,” which have been spent meditating under an oak tree and watching the birds. Emily loves working from home and sending snail-mail. Meanwhile, Wendy doesn’t want to return to “fewer naps or faster days.”
“One thing from pandemic life that I’m not ready to let go of is how much easier it has been to step away from my work, whether it’s for five minutes or an hour,” said Justin, who has worked at home throughout the pandemic. “Giving myself permission to do this when I’m feeling stressed or overwhelmed is so much easier than when I’m in an office full of people. I’ve even let myself use a couple hours of sick time here and there for when my anxiety is out of control.”
Victoria, who attends graduate school while also taking care of her dad, has a similar mindset. “I have been thinking a lot about how I will be able to help with [my dad’s] caregiving when I graduate and get a job in the next two years,” she wrote. “My hope is that I find a job with flexibility, and one that understands that employees have lives outside of work. I hope that some of the lessons learned from this pandemic have reshaped how employers think about productivity and caring for their employees.”
One of the hallmarks of working from home is video conferencing. And despite complaints of Zoom fatigue, many of you have found the bright side of connecting via video.
“I don't want to let go of the option to connect virtually,” commented Joy. “I so appreciate that community board meetings can be on Zoom and that high school theater productions can be live-streamed so grandparents across the country can watch.” Joy said she’s also planning to be more deliberate about work travel. “It's become crystal clear that I really do NOT need to get on a plane every time a group in another state asks for an hour-long presentation,” she added.
Last April, Ariel started a biweekly Zoom call with her college friends and their partners—a group she used to see at a lake house for a few days each summer—and she’s happy to report that it’s still going strong. “Usually we're all rushing around too much to get everyone in the same place at the same time other than that week at the lake, but with no one going anywhere during the pandemic, there's always at least one other person up for a chat. And sometimes we unexpectedly get the whole crew,” she said. “It's been an unexpected silver lining to all of this.”
Patti has also kept in touch with faraway relatives over Zoom. “It seems silly that it took a pandemic to realize we could do more than just talk on the phone when we can't see each other,” she wrote. “I hope we continue to get creative trying to connect with others who are far away.”
“I don't want to forget how important and special phone calls, FaceTime, and Zoom calls became between family and friends,” shared Janet. She hopes always to remember her grandkids’ excitement whenever they see her face pop up on the screen. “Communicating became more precious,” she said.
Speaking of precious communication, Haley has enjoyed “skipping past the bullshit” in conversations with others. “As someone who moved to another city for a new job during the pandemic, there was this sense that I could immediately start being real with coworkers and people I meet through my reporting work. I didn't start conversations with the lie of ‘I'm doing great!’ I usually said: ‘I'm hanging in there, sometimes by a thread. This week has been pretty difficult for me. How are you really doing?’”
Haley said that honesty has led to some real connections with sources and coworkers, despite only seeing them through Google Meet. “I'll be a little sad when I can no longer just start a phone call with: ‘Man, doesn't this suck for all of us right now?’ I'm afraid we're going to return to being fake-cheerful, but I'll keep trying to be as genuine as possible with new faces in my life,” she added. “We're not all doing fine—even if more of us are getting vaccinated.”
Julian hopes we’ll continue to hold people in power accountable. “The one thing I hope people don’t let go of is their anger at the systems that got us into this mess in the first place,” he wrote. “Since November, I’ve seen so many people get lulled back into complacency, and it’s been extremely disheartening. I fear more of this as life returns to some sense of normalcy. The good things that came out of the quarantine are the first things the powers that be will try to snatch away from us. We have to stick together and say ‘hell no.’”
Christine has gained a bevy of joys from pandemic life. She wrote a thoughtful email reflecting on what she’s appreciated.
It feels weird to say that I'm going to miss certain things about pandemic life, so whenever I felt myself having those feelings in recent weeks and months, I sort of stomped them out. Your post has given me permission really to embrace that question and think about it. Because there are good things that have happened in the past year.
I do not want to give up working from home. I'm so much happier in the sunshine-filled home office I created for myself at the start of the pandemic. I cook hearty breakfasts for myself like I never have before, learned how to make my own chai tea lattes. And I work out and take walks in the middle of the day to give myself a brain break—and it makes me so much more focused when I return to my desk. And, importantly, I wear a bra hardly ever. And I NEVER put out an outfit that's uncomfortable just because it's cute. (So many clothes sitting unused in my closet—I should probably just get rid of them!) These things sound silly—but I love it so much.
My husband and I also started a virtual game night with some old friends from grad school whom we had completely lost touch with prior to the pandemic since they moved to another state. The pandemic actually helped us reconnect because we heard about people having virtual game nights. I mean, we could've been doing these game nights since before the pandemic to stay in touch with them, but we never thought of it. And we will definitely be doing them even post-pandemic since in-person hangouts with them are not an option due to distance.
I also realized that I don't need a lot of surface-level friends. A handful of really close friends is actually way better, and that's what I'm going to focus on going forward.
And finally, my kids don't need to be overscheduled with a million activities outside of the house. They have gotten really close with each other and have a grand old time hanging out at home and in the neighborhood. We used to be on the lookout to fill up our weekends with short trips here and there and to do various activities. I want to be more selective going forward about what I allow to fill up their calendars as well. More intentional.
Thank you for this post—and this prompt! I really appreciate having permission, after what was such a terrible year for the world, to think about the actual good things that came of it. And the things I don't want to change, even when given the opportunity. Less is more. Quality over quantity.
Last but not least, Colleen said she’s discussed this topic lately with her therapist. Over the past year, Colleen has cherished her daily walks; calm, commute-free mornings; and even her at-home Friday and Saturday nights, which, “at the start of the pandemic felt almost suffocating.” She’s already feeling anxious about losing these things—and that’s where therapy has helped.
“What my therapist has told me, and what I'll tell you, is we get to live our lives however we want, even once the pandemic is over,” Colleen said. “The habits we've formed over the last year to calm or take care of ourselves don't have to go away once we start booking family vacations or going to friends’ weddings. I suspect that they'll be even more important.”
“I hope we all carry with us a little bit of grace for ourselves, and for others,” she continued. “Maybe it won't be such a big deal to turn down plans if we really want to stay in—or maybe we'll set boundaries at work that our direct reports can then emulate too. Or maybe this stripped-down year has shown us what isn't actually important to us at all.”
I couldn’t have put it better than that. Here’s to making room for the things that matter most. Thank you to everyone who chimed in!
Good job, brain
I'm (re-)reading: Such a Fun Age, by Kiley Reid. I loved this book the first time I read it, and I’m enjoying it even more the second time around. This novel, which explores race, privilege, and complicated relationships, is this month’s pick for the book club I was recently welcomed into. It’s a real page-turner, and I’m excited to discuss it with the group!
I’m inspired by: My new surroundings. Springtime in Atlanta is a glorious thing!
I’m grateful for: Being on the other side of this move. Moving states, in a pandemic, with a five-month-old is ... challenging. But we made it! We’re slowly but surely getting settled in, and it feels wonderful.
I'm aiming to: Soak up this moment. There’s something about a new home that makes everything feel full of promise.
Resources
This is such a lovely perspective: “Yeah, this time is weird. It’s maybe not what I’d want if I had a choice. But I don’t. Why should I pine for it to be over or different? What matters is right now.”
If you’re feeling anxious about the pandemic ending, you’re not alone.
Or perhaps you’re hoping to make all sorts of changes in your post-pandemic life, but doubting your ability to do so. The wise Heather Havrilesky has some spot-on advice.
The pandemic shrank our social circles. Is that such a bad thing?
A listicle I can get behind: 58 Things to Do With the Rest of Quarantine That Aren’t ‘Get Hot’.
For your sweet dumb brain
Before we know it, life will start looking more and more like the Before Times. But that doesn’t mean that all of your newfound habits and routines from the past year have to disappear. This week, set aside some time to reflect on the things you’ve enjoyed about pandemic life. You could meditate on this, share your highlights with family over dinner, or write down a list in your journal.
This is a unique moment in time. Use it to pause and reflect on what matters most to you.
One more thing
Today’s post is a sneak-peek of what paying subscribers usually receive on Fridays. Sometimes, though, subscribers get exclusive essays. Last Friday’s essay, “My no-nickname home,” was a reflection on leaving my Florida house. Julian said that it made him cry, Kara said that it spoke to her, and Katy described it as “one of the most poignant that I’ve read. It is such a powerful encapsulation of your recent journey, including links to deeper, specific moments. I loved it.”
If you’d like to read that essay—and support me as a writer—all you have to do is become a subscriber. Subscriptions are $5/month or $35/year. Your support goes a long way!
This newsletter is written by Katie Hawkins-Gaar. It’s edited by Rebecca Coates, who finds this quote from The Wizard of Oz, her all-time favorite film, to be a fitting depiction of what she’s taking from her pandemic experience. GIF courtesy Cat Chmaj.
This newsletter contains a Bookshop.org affiliate link.