1 Year in a Pandemic: What Got You Here Won't Get You There

Around this time last year, I was in Mexico. I had a bungalow at the Viceroy Riviera Maya and spent lazy days on the beach, sipping margaritas, snacking on fish tacos and switching back and forth between listening to podcasts and reading. It was heaven. Well...almost. There was one pesky thing. My best friend, who was on the trip with me, works in healthcare. Throughout our vacation, she kept checking her email and telling me there was a virus coming to the U.S. She was ordering Clorox wipes and gloves while I was ordering chips and guac. I remember laughing and telling her she was overreacting. I remember telling her to put her phone down and take in the magic of Mexico. We flew back to New York a few days later...and I didn't leave my house for 8 months. 

It's been almost a year since the pandemic took over our lives. I don't know about you, but I'm truly a different person than I was a year ago. I've never had more time to sit still and think about what I value. I've never felt less in my lane. I've never had the rug pulled out from under me in a way that calls shenanigans on any sense of control I thought I had over my life. 

For those of us fortunate enough to have lived through the first year of the pandemic, this is a time when many of us will take inventory. We'll look back on the past year and wonder where the time went. For some, it might feel like a "stolen year" - like it may as well just be pulled out of the timeline of your life. For some, it might feel like a really strange gift: a forced slow down and an unrequested time out. Never have more people moved, changed jobs, left or started relationships, gotten dogs...it's the great reshuffling. 

But one thing that's common among us all, is that we got here. We survived a full year of a pandemic. Thinking back to the first few days of lockdown, I can still feel the pure shock and disbelief. I called my friends and family constantly, checking in on everyone I knew. I told myself this could last up to two months and I needed to buckle up. I'm grateful that I didn't know then what I know now, that a year later we would still be deep in the pandemic. My mind probably wouldn't have been able to absorb that reality in the early days. 

When I was a teenager, I lived in Washington State in a very small country town (population 1,000 and no stop lights) and I worked at the Arby's a couple of towns over. It was winter and I was driving home late one night after work when I hit black ice. My car started spinning in what felt like the slowest of slow motions. My breath stopped and I could clearly see every tree standing tall around me and just prayed my car didn't wrap around one of them. I spun across both sides of the road and was returned to my starting place, back in my lane. 

When I think about what got me here, a year into the pandemic, it feels like I spent a year behind the wheel on that ice-cold, dark country road. What got me through the past year was survival instincts, pure adrenaline and a very strong sense of peace and clarity. But what I also know for sure, is that those same tools that got me here won't get me to the other side of this. We still have some time ahead of us as vaccines roll out and new strains emerge. This isn't over (collective groan...), but it also hasn't just started. And while we all needed certain tools to get through the first year, we need new tools to get to the other side. The journey in requires different tools than the journey out. 

So, as we turn the page on a full year of pandemic living, I invite you to take inventory with me. What tools got you here? Make a list or journal or go for a walk and think about it. You might even have two lists - one for work and one for personal life. Once you've made your list, say thanks. Thank those tools for helping you get through the past year. You needed them and they were there for you, but it might be time to put them back in their toolbox. Their job is probably done and it's time for new tools to embark on this part of the journey - the re-emergence. 

We'll each have our own unique tools, but I find that sometimes having a friend share their tools can help spark some ideas. So I'll share a few of mine with you. My new tools include expansion - I've spent the past year pulling back and keeping it simple and I'm ready to go big and live abundantly again. My new tools include curiosity. I've spent the past year letting my clarity tool take the lead and keep me focused, but I'm ready to peek around corners and explore again. And my new tools include ease. After a year of not only surviving, but thriving in the pandemic, I'm really, really proud and ready to be easier on myself. 

I don't want this strange 1-year anniversary to pass with a bunch of Instagram memes and complaints about losing a year of our lives. We're lucky to be alive. I know there's more meaning and purpose to be found here. And wherever you are and however you're doing right now, I want you to know that I'm cheering you on and you should be really proud of the tools that got you here and the new tools that will get you there. 

Oh, and two weeks after returning to New York from that Mexico trip, when I couldn't get my hands on a Clorox wipe to save my life...you know my friend hooked me up. On our next trip to Mexico, her drinks are on me. 

-Amy