Post Pandemic Wake Up

It’s Time to Move On and Create a New Beginning

Does anyone else feel like they’ve been waking up from a deep sleep?  Not only did the pandemic put the world in lockdown, it apparently shut down my brain. It’s been over for almost a year, and my mind is finally rebooting.

The pandemic was an epoch event that changed everything. The catastrophic force of nature gave new meaning to being part of a global world. It knew no borders and spread across the whole planet without discrimination. Who would have thought we would experience something so earth-shattering in our lifetime? We were all impacted in one way or the other. Millions lost loved ones to the lethal virus, while others quietly suffered an insidious decline. In my case, it was the latter. My heart goes out to those for whom it was the former.

At first, I thought the pandemic would be over within a few months, a momentary inconvenience. It was inconceivable that it would last more than three years and kill over seven million people worldwide. I appreciated that solitary confinement might be more difficult for extroverts than for introverts like myself with hermitizing tendencies. Staying in place at home wasn’t a hard ask. I had creative projects to occupy my mind and keep me busy. But as I humbly learned, no one was exempt from being affected by the pandemic.

 I had just retired and felt good about the future. Then, the pandemic came, and my plan to ensure financial security went off the rails. I had been passionate about starting a business to provide a much-needed service to long-distance caregivers. It didn’t take long to realize that launching a new enterprise during a pandemic wasn’t feasible. So, the dream of writing a novel based on colorful and grueling personal life experiences moved to the front burner. I became hyper-focused on putting pen to paper.

Writing was a creative and rewarding experience. Finishing the manuscript and looking for an agent was anti-climactic and disheartening. Having shelved my business idea, I was lost at sea with nothing simmering on a back burner to set my sites on.

No longer feeling energized by a sense of purpose sent me on a slow-motion downward spiral. I became fearful of the future and discontented with the present. Concern over investment losses and fear of failure turned me into a shadow of my former self. My typically optimistic attitude went dark.

Adapting to shocking circumstances and sudden changes caused by the pandemic was traumatic. Covid brain fog and living in suspended animation took its toll. Staying in place required downshifting gears to a near crawl. It didn’t take long to slip into hibernation mode. Self-awareness, mental acuity, and creative spark went dormant. Does any of this sound familiar?

Death became a near obsession. So many people dying from the pandemic moved it to the front of my mind. Someone dying next door brought the subject close to home. Moving into my elder years during the pandemic didn’t brighten my outlook, that’s for sure. Fear and dread mounted. I got downright morbid, to the point of prearranging for the disposal of my dead body.

Then came the wake-up call.

It came in the form of a nightmare. My subconscious orchestrated a horror story that put my fears into perspective. I tossed and turned in bed when my character was under attack. It sounded and felt like a tornado was knocking the house off its foundations. The front door bowed as mobsters tried to break it down. My character pushed against it with all her might. One of the thugs jammed a booted foot over the threshold, trying to pry the door open. All of a sudden, everything went quiet. Before leaving the scene of the crime, one of the attackers said through the keyhole, “If you want, you can always reach us at Chicago Silo.”

The nightmare snapped me out of a post-pandemic funk. What the mobster said was a bunch of poppycock, just like the fears that had racked my emotions and shackled my mind. Living through a pandemic had warped a sense of time and self. The jarring nightmare literally woke me up from a bad dream. Fear and isolation make us vulnerable to our worst selves. I had devolved from a faith-centered person into a morose curmudgeon obsessed with bleak outcomes. How depressing and more than a little embarrassing. I have to laugh at myself.

The post-pandemic wake-up call was the start of a new beginning. More insights rolled in as the fog continued to lift from my brain. A wellspring of creativity bubbled to the surface, rejuvenating my spirit and motivating me to retake charge of my life.

It’s time to get back in the saddle and ride the waves of change!