Impossible Tasks in a Pandemic - An Open Letter to My Students

Greetings from my at-home office! Today it is my actual desk, but many times it is the expanse of my kitchen table, or the softness of the outdoor chaise if the sun is shining. I personally find myself chasing light these days as it is so easy to be consumed by the uncertainty that currently envelopes us all.  

In social media culture, which often illustrates us thriving with baked bread or freshly whipped instant coffee (and thank you to my advisory who noted I needed to use hot water instead of the critical error usage of cold), it is hard to really see the struggles that underlie the changes in our everyday lives. I have indeed participated in all the trends that infiltrate my news feed, sometimes even enthusiastically, but I want to acknowledge that the COVID-19 pandemic has been tough for me. Mentally.  

In mid-February I left on a medical leave for an overdue operation. At that point in time, COVID-19 had begun to spread and precautions were starting to become more visible. I was already terrified about the procedure and implications, and right up until the day I was admitted, I thought about bowing out. I was worried that I had to remove myself from school, I would need bed rest, and I would have to step away from exercise - an important anchor and outlet for me. After I was released from the hospital, I spent the next month with my feet up, doing my best to heal. It was a challenge to which I wasn’t sure I could rise. I am grateful I had family and friends to support me, and a mindset that I would try to get back to my “normal” as I knew it, as soon as possible. Much to my dismay, many days I was too tired to do anything at all. Other days I tried to do things but physically couldn’t. My first walk I held on to each lamp post as a resting stop, deeply embarrassed I couldn’t make it to the end of the block. I can be unfairly hard on myself, and sometimes I need a break from my own internal narrative. By March Break, I was missing my classroom, my students, my coworkers, and the pace of daily life. I was ready to step back into the arena with the people I cherish in my everyday work life. Enter the surprise of COVID-19 school closures. 

After fighting what felt like an eternity of post-surgery 6 weeks of isolation, limited physical movement, and very little contact with the outside world, I realized this would have to continue with COVID-19 restrictions coming into place. It would mean homeschooling the kids, balancing my workload, helping my partner with the uncertainty of his small business closing, and taking care of my own aging parents, who both live alone, in Ontario. This new reality was overwhelming, and at times a very big challenge for a structured and regimented person like myself. Change is a place where I have the greatest opportunity for growth, but in my own life, I struggle with it. 

It has now been three months of being removed from the physical closeness of people, and there are some days where I need to critically examine my frame of mind. This is in spite of my gratitude and understanding of my relative wealth and privilege, and knowing that I do not face many of the obstacles that others in the community do. Sometimes, there is a little voice that tells me that I should stay in bed, and by pulling the covers tight, I might find a moment of security. There are days where I think that allowing myself unlimited chocolate might bring me joy. Or that a beauty face mask might cover up exactly how uncertain and uncomfortable I feel. Or that a run might energize me and give me strength to move forward and onward through this awkward and unplanned stage in our lives. On occasion I think my gratitude journal holds the answers. There are days that I try all of these and still feel empty. And that is what I want to talk to you about. 

I show up and I don’t give up, but that doesn’t mean that each day isn’t a significant struggle. I have always wanted to be as thoughtful and sincere as Pooh, or as enthusiastic as Piglet, or as wise as Owl, but some days I just have to accept that I am in Eeyore form, plodding onward, one lead foot in front of the other. And that is okay. There are some times in life where we will find our character drastically altered by the circumstances in which we find ourselves. Sometimes, we have choices we can make, which can indeed affect us positively. Other times those choices might just roll off of us without any significant impact. This is where some days I can feel like the inflatable punching clown that keeps getting up no matter how many times it gets knocked down. Things can feel impossible even though my logical brain knows they are not. If you feel this too, you are also not alone. 

The Impossible Task was first introduced by M. Molly Backes on Twitter in 2018, and gained instant popularity. The term “describes how it feels when a task seems impossible to do, no matter how easy it should theoretically be”. As time passes and the task remains unfinished, the pressure to do it continues to build while the inability to do it often remains. Initially used to describe a symptom of depression, this term has become more widespread as people recognized the presence of the Impossible Task in their own lives. Lately, it seems like the people I speak to have multiple Impossible Tasks. Like heavy stones blocking a path, they sit there, seemingly unmovable, looming and large, often blocking our ability to see what lies beyond them. These days, it seems like I have a lot of these boulders on my path. 

What helps me the most? Acknowledging it. Naming it. Sharing it. 

I have realized there is no greater way for me to temper my anxieties, worries and fears than by being vulnerable and open with the people in my circle. I have noticed that in my own honesty about sharing the challenges, I have had more conversations that have had incredible depth and piercing resonance with me. Knowing I am not alone in finding some days tough has made me feel human, and validated.  

I realize that the COVID-19 pandemic has been different for each and every one of you. My most sincere hope is that you are having open and honest conversations about the joys you are experiencing, and the sadnesses too. There is no roadmap for how to feel, or how to approach challenges or change. Sometimes it helps to know that there is another person - even just one - on the same path as you so you know you have some company on your travels. You never know when your honesty can shed just a bit of light for someone else’s journey, illuminating the road even the smallest bit, so they can move their iron feet forward with confidence.  

I can’t wait to see you all again. Keep getting up, and keep showing up. 

Love, Ms. C