Dear Jessica Brennan,
One thing I’ve noticed during the pandemic is that there is this weird time-warp occurring. In the outside world, the virus rapidly takes control of the news cycle, the healthcare system and people’s bodies. What is real this morning is dated by this afternoon. As we learn about how the virus spreads, how it reacts to social distancing and how the populace is going to react to isolation, things change. Data changes, and our lives and how we live must change in double-time. We are learning and adapting at a fever pitch with our anxiety levels playing out like an endless run of staccato notes.
On the other hand. Life has almost stopped in this rapidly changing time. People are living in their pajamas, working from home, wandering around the house, staring out windows. Unable to go out, visit or in some cases work at all. This snail’s pace is driving many people into a loopy bed of sloths, because there’s nothing to do. Time has all but stopped.
I think for me, this push and pull of rapid-time smacking up against slow-motion time, is what gives me the most butterflies. It is like a new kind of physics, and I wasn’t good at the old kind.
There is a lesson though in having to sit absolutely still in a raging storm. That’s what we are doing right? Sitting almost silently and breathlessly in a tsunami. Barely moving while the predator races by the window? But the speed of the external world, swirling around the edges of the breath-holding world, has kept the waters from being stagnant.
In my world, the accelerated need for dealing with things, has honed some skills that were getting a bit rusty. Making swift decisions and prioritizing what is truly important, what isn’t important at all, and what can wait for another day, has reemerged as a necessary art.
On the other hand, the silence has brought with it a voice from within. A voice that I am normally too busy or too noisy to hear. A new creativity has bubbled up as I live in isolation. New questions have come to mind, and the longer I am away from civilization, the more the questions get their heels stuck in and demand answers. This is what slo-mo life has done for me.
Together, I imagine the honed skills and the answered questions might make a better me if I let them. The knowledge of what matters mixed with unbridled creativity could bring about some new projects and because there’s nowhere to hide, I might actually allow myself the time to complete them.
I hope Dear Jess, as you are living slow in this high speed world, you too are learning some unignorable lessons and can use this time to come out a stronger, more in-tune you.
Until then, wash your hands, don’t touch your face. I miss you.
Love,
Mum xo
