2020 is so gonna 2020
It's 2020-ing all over, like your Roomba smearing a pile of fresh dog poop over every floor of your house while you sleep.
It's 2020-ing all over, like your Roomba smearing a pile of fresh dog poop over every floor of your house while you sleep.
How is this year 2020-ing for you?
Just when I could briefly pretend things were normal again, 2020 hits the fan again.
Anxiety over schooling, worrying about my son's teachers — their health if there is school, their personal finances if there isn't. Worrying about whether his school will make it through to 2021 if children don't enroll this year.
Worried about my career, my mental health, feeling like I can't continue juggling clients, a business, childcare, a house, and my health for another year. Feeling very annoyed that I'm the one who has to sacrifice my career if there's no school. Caring about it every third day.
But also, seeing I can feel like my old self through exercise. Realizing that I enjoy writing and want to do it everyday. But ALWAYS feeling oppressed by the constraints of time. Thinking, Crap, I better finish writing this because Austin's about to wake up. What's gonna give?
Standing up for myself. Saying no often. Discovering I'm a dreamer (INFP personality — is anyone else this one?) and loving that about myself. Acknowledging I'm creative and designing our house to reflect me and us as a family. Being unconventional and liking that. Quitting the alarm clock and waking up naturally every single day. Going more and more minimalist.
But...
Occasionally fretting about a disease that also still feels distant. Knowing people I love are in real danger from it, but also feeling like it's so far from affecting me personally.
Feeling guilty if I don't take all the precautions all the time. Trying not to judge others whose tolerance for risk is higher than mine, because my tolerance for risk is higher than others'. But judging the people who prioritize their personal rights over the rights and well-being of their society. I can't understand it.
Also...
Welcoming a loving, kind person into our de facto family. Taking a mother-son vacation with Austin and having one of the best times of my life. Becoming closer friends with women and families in our neighborhood, as we've had to lean on each other for grocery runs, a pound of ground beef, or business support.
Laughing for 3 hours straight during Friday night Zoom dates with old friends. Spending an hour listening to neighbors rhapsodize about their new pet rabbit and spending easy afternoons at the pool with Austin.
Reading Terror in the Name of God: Why Religious Terrorists Kill (a title that makes me smile because it's so dramatic) because it was the only book I had my hands on when the library closed. Buying a bunch of Sesame Street and T-Rex stamps when the Post Office said it might go under. Spending months looking forward to the release of Hamilton on Disney Plus, and now it's already here and past.
Feeling angry at the people who capitalize on the anxieties about Covid, spreading conspiracy theories and maligning doctors and scientists who have spent their adult lives caring for sick people and studying contagious diseases. Witnessing friends and acquaintances fall victim to the conspiracy theories and having difficulty holding them in the same regard as before, but simultaneously understanding it.
Seeing the media hype every new twist in the Covid saga and recognizing what that does to erode people's trust. Feeling conflicted myself about all the safety precautions and feeling like it's up to me to parse the risk to myself and my family.
Spending more time with Aaron and Austin, for better or worse. Happy to have them but also desperate for prolonged time alone. Aware of how lucky I am that this affects us financially only minimally. Knowing we won't lose our house and we'll be able to eat well everyday. Witnessing the privilege differences in my town and the U.S.
Using my position as a marketing strategist to help small businesses use Covid Time to set themselves up for a better, easier, less stressful, more minimalist future. Using these experiences to learn to be a better adviser and teacher. Developing friendships with clients, some down the street, others thousands of miles away.
Feeling protests were unwise during Covid but the sheer lack of regard for one human life by another person necessitated it. Aching for the children — young, dear, innocent, Spanish-speaking children — still trapped in chain link cages in closed-up buildings near the border, with dirty faces, unfed and unloved. Getting burnt out on sad news.
Using minimalism to enable the search for how I'm meant to help people. How I'm meant to help remains unknown, but it's out there and it'll present itself to me when I have the capacity to help others consistently and long-term.
Preparing myself for what's ahead by throwing away my attachment to possessions and focusing on my physical and mental health, so I can have the strength to stick with it when things get hard. Finally understanding that that's what minimalism and self-care are for.
Wondering how we'll collectively remember this time 10 or 50 years down the line. Remembering that I get to choose how I remember this time. How will I remember it?
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