2020 Buckled our Knees and Heaved our Lungs

Reflections on moving forward after the most remarkable year in a lifetime.

2020 was a remarkable year.

It was the year my toes felt more sand between them than any other time in my adult life.

It was the year my circle of friendships grew deeper and wider.

2020 was the year my children and I bonded in a more mature way, testament to their continued growth into the beautiful souls they are. While they’re still teens, I’m glimpsing the gift of friendship that awaits us as they move into adulthood.

2020 was the year I started dating.

2020 was the year my career and confidence soared, a new role and responsibilities showing me what I’m capable of.

It was the year I commuted less, and travelled more.

2020 was the year I wore less makeup, saw more sunsets and took more deep breathes and naps outside.

I realize it’s been a challenging year for many. Close friends have gotten sick with covid, and we haven’t seen family members in almost a year.

Across the world, people have suffered and struggled in immeasurable ways, losing loved ones and livelihoods.

Nurses and doctors worked to their bones while mothers, fathers, and children lay dying without a chance for a final goodbye with their families.

There’s no way to mince words with this level of trauma.

There are no words soft enough to comfort or ease the individual hurts, invisible setbacks and collective traumas.

So when I say this was a remarkable year, it’s not to minimize anyone’s suffering.

I want to start the new year with appreciation for the clarity that came from the worst and best year in this lifetime.

I want to put into the world the kind of thoughts and energies that lift others up. I want to set an example to my children of what it means to persevere and have patience and fortitude.

If there’s anything 2020 has taught me, this much I know; Covid-19 has demanded that the world as we know take a pause. It interrupted our prior way of normal and forced us to reconsider how we want to live as neighbors, lovers and leaders.

Behind the mandates to wear masks has also been quiet invitations to move, and I don’t mean just exercising our bodies, though that’s obviously a good thing.

The movement that matters just as much involves our minds and souls. We are called to move the needle in our values, choices and actions. What kind of society do we want to foster, one that is inclusive and supports all members to thrive?

We can enter this new year resistant and afraid, or with an expansive understanding of what matters more in life.

What do I want my children to take away from this time in their lives?

Shop less, smile more. Eat less, feed and cloth the hungry. Complain less about first world problems, lend your voice to causes that heal the world.

Gossip less, love more.

Judge less, trust more.

Tear down tyranny, appreciate diversity.

Dance to music and march to causes that make this world a better place.

Ease someone else’s loneliness. Pay a kind word forward to a stranger.

Learn to smile with your eyes when your mouth is covered by a mask.

Appreciate the blessings of boredom. They are far more palatable than hunger and homelessness.

2020 heaved our lungs and buckled our knees. It was a remarkable year, one I appreciate for the clarity it brought about what matters, as a woman, mother, friend and lover.

I do not know what 2021 has in store for the world, but as we wait with bated breath for a global reset, I’ve come to ponder something a healer said to me:

Covid isn’t something that happened to us. It happened for us.