This Year I Devour

“Last year I abstained
this year I devour

without guilt
which is also an art”
― Margaret Atwood

I come back to this poem a lot, especially in moments that feel monumental — birthdays, moving, and, of course, the start of a new year. As 2020 came to a close, and the promise of what 2021 could hold, it has, yet again, taken on a new meaning for me.

It’s unlikely that most 2021 will really feel that different from 2020. Even with the roll out of the vaccine, which has been so poorly organized, we will still be wearing masks and physically distancing, at least for the next several months. 2020 has felt a bit of a lost year and I think 2021 will largely feel the same. Already 6 days into January, we’ve seen 2021 give last year a run for its money.

Last year, I stayed inside, I wore my mask, washed my hands, didn’t see my friends, barely got to see my family. I spent Thanksgiving (for the first time) not with my parents or family. I tried to be as careful and cautious as I could. I abstained.

And I think it was worth it. I’m not bemoaning it. It was the right thing to do. (And I will continue to do all thing these until it’s safe.)

I think a lot about what the “after times” are going to look like. I, for the most part, like working from home. I like not commuting. I cook more, drink less, work out regularly, and have dedicated myself to some of my favorite hobbies.

I don’t think a switch will flip for me and that from one day to the next I’ll go from working out 3 times a day inside my house, to wanting to party, breathing the aerosols of a million strangers. I know there will be the need to gradually ease back into life, or some semblance of what life used to feel like. I’ve spent nearly a year not touching people, how can I be expected to jump back into the arms of strangers?

But there are things I’d like to go back to. I miss seeing my friends. I miss seeing live music and being packed into dance floors so hot and sweaty that my bangs stick to my forehead.

And I know the trauma of the last year will these things hard to enjoy again. So, I’m holding on to this poem as a mantra for the “after times” when I can devour without guilt.

I created a playlist to go along with the theme of this week. Hope you enjoy.