We have been castaways in the pandemic era. But with a new year, we must move forward
The end of the year and the beginning anew. Life on the farm and nature grants us the opportunity to reflect and look to the future.
I’ve heard some say it’s time to move on from this past year and the last 22 months of COVID. But the statement “moving on” implies a desire to forget the past, to ignore the tragedies, to dismiss the harsh realities that have wounded many of us in ways we may not be aware of for years. Instead, I believe it’s time we move forward.
Almost all families have coped with some sort of grief in the recent past. The virus struck many, the workplace has forever changed, the education of children left scars, even supply chain issues disrupted our daily life. I’m dazed to think how prior generations lived through the Great Depression that lasted a decade, World Wars that shook nations, and civil unrest that rattled the core of our nation’s institutions and communities. Today, I add to the list of challenges a political polarization that will disrupt and lacerate our relationship with the common good.
Our Valley is changing. People are moving here, taking advantage of new work technologies and lower housing costs. Many Valley counties grew in size in the last year, while many coastal counties witnessed a population decline. Yet we have greater gaps in income and job opportunities than ever before. Even our natural resources, like water, are facing new challenges and unknowns.
Our personal lives are disrupted. Prolonged social distancing affects how we interact. Mental health issues challenge all our families; if you believe your immediate circle of relationships is immune, I fear you aren’t looking deep enough. Now a new COVID variant, Omicron, tosses us back into uncertainty. It seems as if this pandemic era will never end and we can’t escape the past.
I look for a refreshing alternative: move forward. Don’t try to forget the past. I can’t ignore the lives lost (my mother passed away in 2020). I can’t disregard the turmoil, chaos and upheaval of the last 22 months. We’re not supposed to leave behind these last years. Nor should we.
Rather, we can acknowledge the pain and depression. I accept the past and be present in the now as I strive to move forward. Yes, the baggage of this era weighs us down, but realize: we must affirm this burden and grief as part of life to move forward.
Even the drought refuses to let go of our farms and communities. But we can’t pretend it doesn’t exist. I must live with this recent past as I witness trees suffering and vines withering. I can only journey on, seeking other ways to accept what nature gives and takes away. Land will be fallowed and returned to a natural state — unproductive or simply part of the cycle of life?
I find myself in the middle of a transition as a new chapter is being written right before me. Change is coming, and I don’t know what I don’t know. I’m filled with emotions that overwhelm. Grief means we have been touched by something powerful, and it’s supposed to stay with us. That’s what it means: “to remember.”
New values will descend and impact families and relationships forever. Work-life balance may be a part of maturing as we widen our circle of relationships with new neighbors. Some are calling it “the great resignation” as people quit their jobs and look for something new. Instead, I like the phrase “the great reflection” as we all re-evalue life.
We don’t move on, we move forward.
Music has been a companion to my soul these days. Here’s my partial playlist- “A Change is Gonna Come” by Sam Cooke. The farmer side of me listens to country music — “Six Feet Apart” by Luke Combs. Add the emotions of life and love, Taylor Swift and “All Too Well.” The haunting lullaby of “Rain Song” by Han Ye-ri from the movie “Minari,” singing of a hope for rain creating a new day.
Finally, I too often find myself listening to the theme song from the film “Cast Away,” a haunting instrumental and drifting harmony. We’ve been castaways, isolated on our islands, trying to survive with our memories. Yet the world evolves, sometimes without us. We will eventually return to some sort of new normal; we can’t change the past and are compelled to step into an unknown. The world will be different. We will renew our lives. Move forward. One conversation at a time.