Tag Archives: The Fellowship of the Ring

A Lost Year: Reflections On My Coronavirus Anniversary

“Reality continues to ruin my life.” –Bill Watterson, The Complete Calvin and Hobbes

“I wish it need not have happened in my time,” said Frodo.  “So do I,” said Gandalf, “and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.” –J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring

Hello friend,

Last weekend, my daughter had her State Basketball Tournament.  On our way home on Sunday afternoon, we got off the highway and were heading down the frontage road when she chimed in from the back seat: “Hey Dad, there’s the last restaurant we went to!”  It took me a second to jar my memory, but finally it clicked in.  She was right: there beside the road was the T.G.I.Fridays we had gone to with her teammates and their families on the day her State Tournament ended last year.  The realization was a sobering one.

Last year.

With my daughter’s words, my mind was transported back to the first few weeks of March 2020.  The quickly escalating tension and concern.  The constant monitoring of the news for case updates and closures.  The immediate fear of contracting the virus and losing loved ones.  And what seemed like the worst at the time: the overwhelming sense of dread and inevitability as I watched the two biggest things occupying my mind head straight for each other like two runaway trains on the same track: my long-dreamt-about family beach vacation and the exponential spread of the coronavirus toward the point of national lockdown.

I remember how desperate I felt to get to that sunshine and warmth so I could immerse myself in the saltwater that always seems to make me whole again.  I remember how irrational my thoughts became as the numbers rose to the point where it should have been obvious that the vacation was simply not going to happen.  Things were beginning to shut down, and the dominoes kept falling.  My son’s State Tournament, scheduled for the weekend after my daughter’s and just a couple days before our trip, was canceled.  I begged the Universe for some loophole to appear that would allow us to go.  I was willing things to be different, so obsessed was I with that vacation.

When I finally faced reality, I remember sitting on my bed, breaking the news to my kids.  It was a heavy night in our house.  They were so disappointed.  We all were.  It was terrible.

And that was only the beginning…

As we got deeper into March, a bizarre new way of life emerged at my house.  School was shut down, only to be later restarted in a less-than-ideal way at home through devices.  I scrounged for toilet paper, but otherwise we avoided stores, restaurants, and even our own jobs (which we were grateful to keep as others were losing theirs).  It was a surreal new world to occupy, but the sacrifices made sense in order to quickly move out of the danger zone and back to our version of Normal.

From this view now, it seems odd that we imagined that the return to Normal would be quick.  But we did.

One memory of those very early days that stands out in my mind is of watching a news show and hearing projections about the damage the novel coronavirus could cause if we—as regular citizens and our elected leaders–didn’t take the right steps early on in its days in America.  I specifically remember them saying that it could potentially kill 70,000 people here.  I thought, “NO WAY!!! That will NEVER happen!  (But maybe the outlandish number will scare some people into behaving well for others in their communities.)”  Seventy thousand.  What a fantasy that sounds like now, as we recently blew by the half-a-million milestone and are still allowing 2,000 Americans to die every day from the virus, even as we continue to loosen our restrictions on gatherings and mask-wearing in many states.  Oh, America…

After that crazy start, April arrived and seemed to stay for about 87 days.  As an introvert, I felt like I had spent my whole life preparing for the forced isolation and quiet.  It was just fine with me.  At first, the “family time” and “break from organized activities” were relatively easy to sell to my kids.  It grew less easy over time.  They understood the seriousness of the virus and how each person’s behavior affected the entire community, so they accepted how disciplined my wife and I demanded us all to be.  Still, seeing the unmasked neighbor kids wrestling in their yards with friends and other too-large neighborhood gatherings of adults made them wonder (justifiably) why other people got to cheat the rules.  We can see now where all that cheating got us.

May was much like April—long and solitary—except that the warmer weather made getting out of the house for family walks and bike rides easier.  We all appreciated the diversion.  And outside, we could actually see other humans walking and riding as well, evidence that we were not alone on the planet, even if we couldn’t interact with them.

Summer is totally my season, and I had long been planning lots of adventures for my family for the 2020 Summer.  We were going to take camping trips and many trips to the lake.  To top it all off was to be a huge, cross-country roadtrip that included tons of sightseeing as well as visits with family and friends.  The kids were the perfect age for it.  It was to be one of those trips we would always talk about when we got together over the course of our lifetimes, forever family memories.  NOPE!  Canceled, canceled, canceled.  Thanks to some family members committed to keeping safe, we were at least able to get to the lake to be with people we love.  As I look back on the year, that time at the lake was the closest thing I have felt to Normal in the last twelve months.  It was fantastic, and maybe something I will never take for granted again.

For my kids, other than their four-guest, outdoor birthday parties, if they wanted to spend time with friends, they had to stay on their bikes and talk while riding around the neighborhood.  A far cry from the “just go out and play” days of the past.  Childhood, interrupted.

Despite the rolling disappointment of the muted previous seasons, Autumn came around too soon, as it always does for me.  Things like school and organized activities kind of halfway started, at least for some kids, including mine.  It was like coming into the kitchen as a full batch of cookies is coming out of the oven but only being offered a single bite.  Unsatisfying.  But it was something.  For the beggars we had all become over the previous several months, we clung to it desperately.

But then, of course, it ended.  Schools and activities shut down again as cases and deaths skyrocketed.  We were back to a fully muted life again, this time just more accustomed to it.  Holidays that we have always celebrated heartily, like Halloween and Thanksgiving, came and went with just the four of us hanging out at home.  The kids got lazy and addicted to screens in the absence of school and sports.  We were determined to still get outdoors whenever we could, searching for energy and inspiration in a time when those were in short supply.

Winter continued the theme, as our lives seemed a bit frozen in time for a while as the virus kept us under its thumb.  Slowly and tentatively, activities resumed.  Eventually, games began to be played—fully masked and short of breath–and talk of a return to in-person schooling in some form.  When school did resume recently, it was still the partial version.  Half-schedules and no lockers for older kids, eating at your desk for the younger.  There is no doubt the kids were glad to be back, but of course, it is not the same.  Not as free.  Not as fun.  Just like everything else.

And now, here we are again in March.  A full year into this COVID lifestyle and about to miss yet another Spring Break family beach vacation.  I cannot think about this past year without shaking my head.  It is involuntary.  I cannot even begin to explain how deeply disappointed and frustrated I am with everything about this situation.  The fact that we are a year out from the first deaths in this country and are still erasing 2,000 more people every day just makes me sick to my stomach.  The fact that I have essentially lost a full year in my fleeting life feels thoroughly wasteful.  I feel like I have been robbed.  I’m sad about it.  But I am also angry.  I am sick and tired of shaking my head.  At spineless or inept politicians failing their moral duties.  At yet another milestone marker in cases or deaths.  At people in the grocery store with their masks down below their noses. Or people going on vacation.  Or going to bars and restaurants.  Or refusing to get vaccinated.  Or leaving the house when they are sick.  Or complaining about how tough the guidelines and restrictions are when they aren’t even following them anyway.  My neck is sore from all of the shaking, I swear.

Let me be clear: I am well aware that my family and I have been extremely blessed during the entire pandemic and over the course of this awful year.  We have been healthy and connected: never got the virus and didn’t kill each other.  We have had paychecks and food on the table.  We are lucky, and I am deeply grateful for that.  I have made the best of a best of a bad situation.  And I can honestly say that I have been happy all year.

But not fulfilled.  Not enjoying my work the way I normally would.  Not getting all of my itches scratched for adventure, travel, laughter, and human connection.  Not free.  Basically, just not living my best life.  Pandemic living is just so awfully dimmed and muted.  I resent the dullness of it, how little there is to look forward to.  It is so unlike glorious, regular Life.

That stinks.  Because like I said, I am not getting any younger, and my years are flying by.  I don’t have any extras to just throw away anymore.  There is too much I want to do and feel, and too much I want to share with my kids while they are still kids.

So, I feel like I’ve been cheated this past year.  Every day going forward from today in which it still feels unwise to travel and play and hug and look deeply into a friend’s eyes while we share our deepest thoughts, I will feel even more cheated.  And not simply because there was a global pandemic.  Bad things happen; I get that.  Things don’t always go my way.  So yeah, the coronavirus has been a bite in the butt.  But I feel more cheated by my fellow countrymen.  My neighbors and co-workers, my family and friends.  And yes, my elected leaders.  Collectively, we Americans have behaved horribly regarding COVID, completely failing the exam.  Our federal policy was nonexistent (though I must say we did well in developing a vaccine quickly).  Our state policies were not strong enough.  But mostly, it was just the regular folks in our communities—our friends and neighbors–who were unwilling to sacrifice for one another.  As my co-worker likes to say, ”They never should have told Americans that wearing a mask (and wearing it correctly) was to protect others.  They should have led with, ‘The mask is only to save yourself.’”  Other countries were amazing.  There were plenty of examples to look to.  The keys to beating the virus back were not secret.  We just didn’t do it.  And we are still, a year later, not doing it.  That really makes me mad.  Sad, too, because I hate to think so poorly of my country and my countrymen.  But I do.  Because we could have beaten this thing by now.  We should have beaten this thing by now.  It disgusts me that we haven’t.   And that I am still counting.  I am thoroughly disappointed.  I have been that way all year long.

How about you?  What are your strongest memories and takeaways from your year dealing with the coronavirus pandemic?  Open up your journal and your heart, and wander back through the last twelve months in your mind.  Go ahead, begin at the beginning.  What was happening in your life in March of 2020 as things started to get real with the virus?  What were the first things in your world to get disrupted?  Which plans did you have to cancel?  What was your level of fear and tension around the virus itself?  How upset were you with the sudden changes in your lifestyle?  Do you have a personality that flows well with change and chaos?  Which aspects of “lockdown” living did you appreciate at the time?  Did you miss your routine?  Your loved ones?  Stimulation?  How was your job affected?  In those early weeks of the lockdown, how long did you expect your life to be significantly disrupted by the virus?  How many people would you have guessed would die in your country?  Did those expectations of length and severity color the way you have viewed the pandemic the rest of the way?  At what point in the year did you feel optimism about the possibility of the virus getting under control soon?  Mid-Summer?  Early Autumn?  Ever?  How disappointed are you in the way things have gone?  What would you say is your distribution of disappointment, anger, frustration, umbrage, fear, and sadness?  How wildly does that distribution vary from day to day?  At whom do you direct the bulk of your ire regarding the duration and depth of this fiasco?  Elected officials?  God/the Universe?  Regular folks not following the basic safety rules?  Does your answer vary from day to day on that one as well?  When I look back now over this letter to you and how I have described life in the last year, I see words like muted, disappointed, desperate, bizarre, dimmed, wasteful, sick-and-tired, frozen in time, tentative, slow, quiet, solitary, halfway, sad, and surreal.  What adjectives come to your mind when you think about your lifestyle of the past year?  Ten or twenty years from now, how do you think you will look back on this time?  Will this have been the worst year of your life?  Where are you with it right now?  Does the presence of the vaccine, even if you haven’t received it yet, make you more impatient about getting back to the life you once had?  What are the things you will try to keep from this COVID lifestyle?  If you could give some advice to the person you were one year ago about how to make the best of the year that would come, what would you say?  If you are like me and mostly feel like you have been robbed of a year on Earth, what will you do differently when we finally emerge from the pandemic to either make up for lost time or just make the best use of the time you have left?  What is the most important lesson you have learned?  Leave me a reply and let me know: What will you take away from your year with the coronavirus?

Onward and upward,

William

P.S. If this letter resonated with you today, please share it with your community.  We must learn in order to grow!

P.P.S. If you like to examine your life both broadly and deeply, consider purchasing my book, Journal Of YOU: Uncovering The Beauty That Is Your Truth, at your favorite online retailers.  Namaste.

My Favorite Quotes: The Words That Remind Me What Matters Most

fontcandy“I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.”–Henry David Thoreau, Walden

Hello friend,

Twenty years ago, when I first opened Thoreau’s Walden, little did I know that my life would never be the same. My mind had just begun to open to new messages, and Thoreau came in and absolutely blew the roof off the place. I had found my soul-mate! I was mesmerized by every last word, reading each passage over before moving on to make sure I absorbed it completely. It was as if he as writing directly to me, or, more accurately, writing right out of my own head. I wanted to highlight every paragraph, to quote every line. Some of my favorites:

“I learned this, at least, by my experiment; that if one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours.”

“Why should we be in such desperate haste to succeed and in such desperate enterprises? If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away.”

“If I were confined to a corner of a garret all my days, like a spider, the world would be just as large to me while I had my thoughts about me.”

“It is life near the bone where it is sweetest.”

“Rather than love, than money, than fame, give me truth.”

“To affect the quality of the day, that is the highest of arts.”

“I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life…”

“I love to be alone. I never found the companion that was so companionable as solitude.”

“Sell your clothes and keep your thoughts.”

“Go confidently in the direction of your dreams. Live the life you have imagined.”

Oh, I could go on and on! That book just melted into my soul. I tingled all over as those magical lines burned themselves into my brain, where I would draw on them many times in all the years that have followed. Beautiful words from beautiful minds have that way about them.

Over the course of my life, the three historical characters that I have gravitated towards most are Thoreau, Mohandas “Mahatma” Gandhi, and Martin Luther King, Jr.. I have been captivated by their writings, their speeches, and the lives they led. When I try to come up with my favorite quotes from them, it is very difficult, as nearly everything on record is compelling to me.

With Gandhi, if you forced me to pick two, I might pick the simplest ones, both of which spoke to the way he led. The first is, “Be the change that you wish to see in the world.” The second echoes that sentiment. While visiting Bengal, a reporter asked him, “Do you have a message for the people of India?” His response: “My life is my message.” Oh, if we could all live up to that, just imagine our greatness!

With Dr. King, it is perhaps even more difficult to pin down a couple of favorites. One of them that has inspired me often with Journal of You, particularly when I have debated whether to write about a controversial or revealing topic—God, politics, sexuality, to name a few–is this challenge to the soul: “Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter.” That one slays my fears every time.

A good quotation is unbelievably powerful. It strikes you right at your core, making your hairs stand on end or unleashing sudden tears or smiles or knowing nods. Some of the ones that hit me at my foundation are about simple life lessons that I need to be reminded of:

“The unexamined life is not worth living.” –Socrates

“Be yourself; everyone else is already taken.” –Oscar Wilde

“We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, therefore, is not an act but a habit.” –Aristotle

“Change your thoughts and you change your world.” –Norman Vincent Peale

“You never fail until you stop trying.” –Albert Einstein

“I cried because I had no shoes until I met a man who had no feet.” –Persian saying

“Peace is every step.” –Thich Nhat Hanh

“Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, today is a gift of God, which is why we call it the present.” –Bill Keane (and others)

“What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us.” –Ralph Waldo Emerson

“Life isn’t about finding yourself. Life is about creating yourself.” –George Bernard Shaw

“The great dividing line between success and failure can be expressed in five words: I did not have time.” –Anonymous

“If not now, when? If not you, who?” –Hillel the Elder 

All of these hit home for me in slightly different ways. They are the little reminders that I need to stay clear about how to navigate this world successfully. They are the random–but pure gold–nuggets of wisdom. I love them individually.

On the other hand, I find that there is one category of quotations that I am drawn to most, one topic from which I can easily churn out a big list of favorites. My soul-stingers are the ones that remind me to seize the day and follow the calling of my heart unflinchingly. They can be summarized by three words from the great Joseph Campbell: “Follow your Bliss.” Here are some of the others in my “Follow your Bliss/This is Not a Dress Rehearsal” category:

“One day you will wake up and there won’t be any more time to do the things you’ve always wanted. Do it now.” –Paulo Coelho

“Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go.” –T.S. Eliot

“I am here to live out loud.” –Émile Zola

“If you want something you’ve never had, you must be willing to do something you’ve never done.” —Thomas Jefferson

“If your dreams don’t scare you, they aren’t big enough!” —Ellen Johnson Sirleaf

“Be fearless in the pursuit of what sets your soul on fire.” –A favorite Pinterest meme

“Leap and the net will appear.” –John Burroughs

“It is never too late to be what you might have been.” –George Eliot

“Always do what you are afraid to do.” –Ralph Waldo Emerson

“The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams.” –Eleanor Roosevelt

“All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.” –J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring 

“When you feel in your gut what you are and then dynamically pursue it—don’t back down and don’t give up—then you’re going to mystify a lot of folks.” –Bob Dylan

“There came a time when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.” –Anaïs Nin

“You know, we can’t get out of life alive! We can either die in the bleachers or die on the field. We might as well come down on the field and go for it!” –Les Brown

“Don’t die with your music still in you.” –Wayne Dyer (A spin on Thoreau’s line from Civil Disobedience and Other Essays: “Most men lead lives of quiet desperation and go to the grave with the song still in them.”)

These are like zingers right into my heart. I get that surge of adrenaline and clarity whenever I read them. I think that says a lot about what drives me, what is in my soul’s code. These words have magical powers. They are the wind that fills my sails. When I read them, I think they were written just for me. That is the essence of a favorite quote. I do love them so.

How about you? What are your favorite quotations? Open up your journal and start your own list. Is there one particular writer or speaker, like my Thoreau, whose phrases are burned upon your heart more than others? I think most of us just know our favorites when we see them, but are there any quotes that you recite frequently from memory? Are your favorites from all over the map, or do they tend to fall into a certain category, such as love, change, happiness, humor, motivation, family, leadership, or success? Why do you think you gravitate toward that topic? When you come across a quotation that strikes you at your core, what do you do about it? Do you see it as a message that was meant for you and allow it to direct your course of action, or do you dismiss it as mere chance and move on? Now that you have been creating your list, do you feel inclined to post it somewhere, or at least keep it in a notebook that you will open occasionally for a positive reminder? Which ones are your absolute favorites? Leave me a reply and let me know: Which words are yours to live by?

Do your best today,

William

P.S. If our search for quotes stirred your heart and mind a bit today, share it with your world. We could all use a little stirring!