Seven months.
Seven months since the post that was supposed to “start a new chapter.” I don’t even feel embarrassed about it because I did call myself out on my procrastinating habits.
The change of circumstances during that time has been fast and ever-changing. Pandemic-wise, it went from strictly regulated, to a bit of ease, and, just a week ago, back to being regulated again.
Throughout it all, I couldn’t help but feel like being caught in a kinetic wave, pushed back and forth. Not swayed, but shoved— because the former indicates gentleness, and it hasn’t felt quite gentle, not yet. The ease of going back to “normal” has been a daunting prospect in the last few months.
Back to work, back to social obligations. The intense pressure of normalcy feels chaffing after the last few years of isolation and cautious gatherings.
It is so immensely overwhelming that there are days where I just sit and process the day’s events, rather seize the rest of my day. I joke with friends that “the social stamina is at an all-time low,” and when I sit down in silence to gather my bearings, I remind myself that it’s the truth.
It’s interesting to me that there are those that re-assimilated with ease, and I hold on to hope that I’ll be there one day. But I’m also keen to take my time in building back that stamina, because at the moment it feels like being on a high-speed rollercoaster with a malfunctioning safety bar— it’s there, but not secure enough to hold on to.
I do wonder how long it would take though. How long until it really feels like normal? Because going through a pandemic, I’m sure that not everyone came out the same person. I’m trying to remind myself that it’s okay, that it’s normal to reassess one’s viewpoints after a big, shared event such as that. Even if the reassessments mean making major decisions about the present and the future.
Some of the pressuring sentiments is that after a year and a half of lockdown, the world seems to want to make up for lost time. Like we should strap ourselves to a rocket, heading at the speed of lights to Destination Normal.
It not that simple, because humans, by their very nature, are not that simple.
We’re like yarn. We unravel ourselves and discover how far we can go, and pull back when we understand that it’s not the right direction.
Last year, during Abu Dhabi Art (a normalcy I welcomed wholeheartedly, because what’s art if it’s not a healing of the mind?), I came across an artwork by Sumakshi Singh titled The Images Still Lingers As The Structures Dissolves.
Sumakshi Singh - The Images Still Lingers As The Structures Dissolves, displayed at Abu Dhabi Art 2021
The haunting and unusual artwork was accompanied with one of the most relatable description I’ve come across so far:
This body of work is a reflection on…questions as unravelled tapestries of web-like threads converge, diverge, knot and form into partial images of nature, hovering weightlessly, like an insubstantial mirage.
The holding of fragments and the releasing of form both speak the language of memory-partially preserved, and flattened a between the pages of a book or perhaps they speak the language of potential future— as the image awaits forming up and… expresses a desire for the whole. This weightless image of the future-past is a seeking of refuge in the transient image— a waiting to rejoin the world perceived form or an un-turning of the knots which created form to allow a dissolution bak to material from which it came.
I couldn’t have summarized my current state of mind any better than this. And I’m sure there are others experiencing something similar.
The bottom line is, it is okay to feel anxious as we go about our day— what was once familiar would need time to be remembered again.
It is okay to regulate your assimilation back to “normal”, whatever that means to you. All the convictions of how much you’ve changed are valid.
Like this thoughtful artwork, we’re just working our way toward rejoining the world— it doesn’t have to be today.