“if you are always trying to be normal, you will never know how amazing you can be.” —Maya Angelou
“So…are you getting used to the new normal?” the friendly grocery story checker asked from behind his mask. I was grateful he was wearing one, as the last time I visited this store two weeks ago, the workers didn’t seem very protected. New guidelines take a while to roll out in a state (world) this big, I suppose, though its remarkable how quickly that seems to be happening.
New normal. That’s a phrase I remember bandied around in the Traumatic Brain Injury community I was thrust into six years ago. Until then, I don’t think I’d heard it…or if I had, I hadn’t noticed. I hadn’t needed to. Truth is, I still don’t love the term, even though I get what people mean.
“You think we’ve landed at a new normal?” I asked back from behind my own mask. “Seems like things keep changing to me.”
We bantered a bit, the checker, the bagger and myself. I hoped my smiling-tone translated since my face was mostly covered, and I willed my eyes to twinkle in case he actually looked up. I wanted to make things light and act, well…normal….even though we were wearing surgical gloves and masks in a GROCERY STORE! He was wearing a lavender bandana covered with butterflies that he said a customer had made for the workers there. It was as if we were had all dressed last minute for a lame costume party with a doctor/bandit theme. Pick your poison. About half the people in the store got the memo. The checker told me he’d been working there for two weeks and was grateful for the job. The teenaged bag-boy said something about how his mom couldn’t make him do his school work at home, nor could his teachers. We all chuckled knowingly, maybe a little extra, because again…masks and weirdness.
New normal. I don’t agree that this is our new normal, because, like I said, its still changing so much. It changes every week. We’ve never been here—even our leaders and doctors, the ones giving directions—don’t know what to expect except by looking at charts and science, history, and what other countries at the front-stages of this war against an invisible enemy have done (or not done) so far.
It’s been over a month that we’ve been isolating, over a month since the schools ‘closed,’ and since our the Shelter-at-home order was given. I work from home anyway, but without a separate boss to crack the whip, that has slowed down a frightening amount. I expect we aren’t even half way through this period yet, the quarantine recommendations keep extending. Schools are closed through summer. The economy is shifting big time. Regulations are changing rapidly. The Earth is breathing freer while we stay indoors. Will we even be able to return to the “old normal?” Do we really want to? (Well, yes, if we can pick the parts we want to keep.)
Every time I go out something has changed. Sometimes, I imagine my house like a slowly revolving tower, perhaps like the iconic old restaurant tower at LAX. Every day marks a slow tick in rotation, and whenever the door opens, I may find myself in a slightly altered reality: It looks like the same town, same world, same fellow citizens, but its not the same at all. Every day that goes by, every tick of the wheel, puts us further out to a changed space, and none of us have an idea of what that will be when the stay-at-home order is dropped.
New Normal? It’s certainly not normal. But it is new for now. I am getting used to much of it, to answer the checker’s question. But it keeps changing. Many of the changes I’m experiencing are in my own head as much as out in the world. Different emotions I have to touch on, different triggering points, things I recognize as shock, things I recognize as lingering trauma, that built-in ability to reframe the story toward Hope. For me, I’ve learned that flight or fight behavior doesn’t kick in as much as freeze. Time just sort of stops, and my motion is very slow. A lot of quieting down, barely getting things done, starting new things has been almost impossible, but I have a few old things to tie up. It’s never been easy for me to look far into the future, but I will say being PRESENT is getting easier, and that’s not a bad thing. It’s always the present, after all.
I’m rambling now, but I’m offering this to people who may struggle with where their own minds have been. In our society there is a lot of pressure to get on with things, or make something better out of the experience. Hopefully we can find ways to be helpful and eventually we will find our meanings. I can’t speak to everyone’s losses or how their personalities manage these things, but for many this is a period of SHOCK. It’s one of the early stages of grief, and I have become familiar with the physical symptoms of it several times over the past years. Everything slows down. Things feel unreal. Perhaps movement is just pushing one pile to another edge of the proverbial desk. Sleep seems more available (or less.) There is a haze. I think of it as ‘hibernation energy’ like a bear hunkering down, saving its energy for the unseen phase that’s coming next. Communication seems to take more effort. You might find chocolate helps with brain chemistry balance, even if you didn’t think you had a sweet tooth.
This is our nervous system taking care of us, getting us down to basic securities, like having food or getting through the day with one or two things checked off your list. You know…the essentials. We show up for work as best we can, if we are lucky enough to be working. We try to convince our children they are still in school, though they know better of course. A friend texted me the other day, proud of herself for taking out the trash. I felt proud of her too, as mine only got as far as the front door. Not everyone has the luxury of recognizing the shock or even resting. What we are now calling essential workers are out there on the road, in grocery stores, and in hospitals dealing with life as it comes at them, probably busier than before. They are on the front lines of this season while the rest of us get out of their way.
If you are a person who has been in shock as we get used to this weird, ominous stage of unknowing, that’s okay too. Just go with it. Get done what you need to. Move slowly. Allow your uncomfortable triggers to teach you how far you’ve come and ask how you can gently move through them. Perhaps you’ll find the work you’ve been investing in doesn’t feel ‘essential’ any longer, maybe this as an opportunity to shift it. The shock will wane and you will have your energy back. In time, your role in a changed world will be revealed. And you will become ‘essential’ in a coming phase. (I know, not the most helpful of words, is it?) Don’t beat yourself up. You’ll be rested and stronger and ready to be of service when your gifts are needed and your shock wears off. None of us know what the next phase of life will look like, but be assured, we will all find our place. We are each essential, if not normal.
Anyway, normalcy is overrated, don’t you think?
