No. 11 | My post-pandemic packing list
A few souvenirs I’d like to keep from 15 months of pandemic life
With 10 million of the Netherlands’ approximately 14 million adults having received their first dose of the vaccine and 5 million fully vaccinated, there have been fewer than 500 new cases of COVID-19 per day. This week we saw the first day without a coronavirus death since September 2020.
In the depths of our lockdown winter, it all felt like we were slogging through in slow motion with no end in sight. Then BOOM. The Netherlands lifted most of its restrictions last weekend.
Life is reopening, and at warp speed. People are getting on planes and hugging family members for the first time in over a year. We can sit down at restaurants, shout at football matches, drink at bars, take off our masks (except in public transport), visit museums, go to the ballet, and dance in clubs (with a negative result from a PCR test paid for by the Dutch government).
Are you ready? I’m so ready! Wait. Actually, I’m not sure. Can I think about it?
In the collective rush to return to normal (or fumble our way to what passes for normal in 2021), I’ve realized there are some things from the past year I want to hold on to. I’m aware that it’s a privilege for me to be able to say so; it’s been a devastating year that has revealed massive inequalities everywhere, and not everyone has been lucky.
Nevertheless, I declare my intentions for posterity. Because despite all that we have collectively suffered, human memory is frail and short. I don’t want to forget.
Heading towards a hopefully pandemic-free future, the biggest souvenirs in my suitcase are:
The nourishing pleasure of reading.
While the world turned to Netflix to soothe its anxiety, I rediscovered books.
Maybe my attention span has been shaved down to almost nothing because of social media, or maybe it’s because I used to work in TV and TV reminds me of work, but I can’t handle as much TV as I used to. One episode at a time, at the most two, but no more than two viewing sessions a week. Sometimes it takes me two weeks to pick a series back up again.
Instead, I read a lot. Reading feels like necessary nourishment and tender care for a brain that’s been frayed by anxiety and shredded by stress. My inner writer is loving me for the inspiration I’ve been feeding it. I hope it shows on the page.
The deep satisfaction of rest.
Raise your hand if you, like me, were too goddamn busy in February 2020. The pandemic gave us a bulletproof excuse to say no, to stay home, go to bed early, not fill our hours, calendars, and heads with too much, too often. As both a hedonist and recovering people pleaser, I struggle to say no.
In the past year, I have been allowed to repair my relationship with sleep. I love sleep. Now I nap every day if I can. I’m excited about going to bed at 10. My skin has never been better. And while I’m counting the hours until I can return to my beloved electronic music scene, I suspect I won’t be the only one on the dance floor yawning after midnight.
The delight and security of a tightly curated social circle.
You know what was great about pandemic bubbles? Spending time only with people I really, really, REALLY like. You know what sucks about society opening again? We now have to be among the various kinds of people that we find annoying and didn’t have to deal with for a year and a half. Damn. I forgot about them.
Outside of my immediate family, I only sought regular social interaction with two other people, my essentials. There were maybe four more people I interacted with semi-regularly. And yes, I lost people I once considered friends.
Yet when COVID forcibly pruned my social circle, my satisfaction grew richer and deeper. My energy is better conserved, more easily replenished. As an extreme extrovert who is? was once? insatiably curious about new people, this has been an eye-opener. I can see all the introverts nodding. You already knew this, didn’t you?
Oh, I still have space in my suitcase? Well then, let me just slip a few other bits into my re-entry pack.
An appreciation of the hidden beauty of Netherlands. Unable to travel abroad, we explored a great deal of the Netherlands this year.
Dutch nature is not as flashy or bombastic as that of many popular travel destinations, and its enjoyment demands a taste for quiet, subtlety and coziness (not to mention robust rain gear). But I’ve found places to love within Dutch borders, and I thank being grounded for that.
My weekly joint. After 10 years as an Amsterdam resident, I finally learned to smoke. Ain’t gonna lie: with bars closed for so long, my fondness for cocktails was taken over by my weekly puffs of hash. It really helped soothe my anxiety at the start of the pandemic. Even though after a year I still can’t finish a joint on my own, these days I even prefer having a smoke to having a drink. With one exception…
Natural wine. 2020 was a great year to run a wine store. And in Amsterdam, natural wine is the THING. In my neighborhood alone there are 4 natural wine shops within a 10-minute walk from my doorstep, and my favorite local wine business delivers. I enjoy the funkiness of natural wine and the passion of its makers, even if some wines taste more like grape juice than what we expect wine to taste like.
I’ve discovered that it’s the only stuff that doesn’t give me a headache the next day, even if I finish a whole bottle by myself. Not saying that I have… um. Next!
Home-brewed kombucha. I learned how to brew kombucha in November 2020 and it is an incredibly satisfying process. I named my first SCOBY Mother Lily after the Philippines’ most influential film producer in the 80s; like her namesake, she has grown to be formidable and prolific. I love trying different flavor combinations and giving them away to friends. My favorite so far is strawberry and black pepper.
Gray hair. I stopped dyeing my grays and bleaching my natural hair when hair salons closed in May 2020. My hair is now fully black with a white streak at my right temple: a definite Cruella de Ville vibe. And you know what? I like it. I feel free of the hassle of worrying about my hair color every few months. I don’t mind looking my age (nearly 40). In fact, I think I look damn good.
No-underwire bras. In fact, no bras. Wide-legged pants. In fact, pants with no zippers! Actually, everything on this list. Why do we need bras? Or zippers? Don’t even get me started on heels.
All the family time I could want or need (sometimes, even more). Having my husband home for 15 months brought greater equality to our home, in terms of household work and child rearing. It is truly unfortunate that women around the world have had the opposite experience.
Truth is, while my WFH for over a decade as a freelancer made me the default parent, his WFH freed my husband to be more present for our family. To bring my daughter to school (instead of getting on the train to his office at Rotterdam before we even wake up), teach her basketball on his lunch break, and host playdates (because unlike me, he can concentrate on work even with a trio of shrieking eight year-olds and Mario Kart on full blast).
I’m really going to miss this when he goes back to the office. I’m not ready.
Gardening. 2020 was my redemption arc from plant serial killer to proud owner of a green, thriving balcony garden. In the absence of my usual distractions, I could actually take the time to plant seeds during the right season, look up the proper care for each houseplant I bought, and shower my babies with loving care each day. And it has been satisfying.
Gardening has given me back some of the sense of control that the uncertainty of pandemic ripped from my hands. And the balcony looks great.
I’ve seen many interesting reads on post-pandemic re-entry from around the Internet. Here are a few of my favorites for your consideration.
The first time all the clubs announced their weekend lineups simultaneously, I had a mini-meltdown. I want to be everywhere and do everything, even as I understand that the way of moderation makes the most sense to me. As I said, I’m a hedonist, so this will be a challenge. I’m already holding tickets to five parties in July. HELP.
Young People Found Time to Figure Out Their Identities (Teen Vogue)
2020 was the year I really settled into my identity as a polyamorous person. For the first time, I wasn’t just someone in an open marriage enjoying casual adventures, but a woman who is truly poly-amorous, or capable, as the word suggests, of plural (romantic) loves. And it all unfolded in lockdown. This probably deserves an entire issue on its own; if you would like to read about that, give me a shout.
Esther Perel asks a few good questions (Facebook)
My favorite relationship therapist suggests these thought-provoking questions for self-reflection before returning to a fully open society. What do you want to go back to? What have you missed? What have you appreciated that you want to hold on to? What do you hope you will not change, because you like what happened to you? What things do you want to do differently as you go back out again?
Burn All the Leggings (The Atlantic)
Another good question: how has your body changed this year? Do last year’s clothes accommodate that—or fit the strange new world we find ourselves in? Personally, I am happy that the wide-legged elephant denims of the 90s are back, and sad that I can’t fit into my cute black miniskirt and thigh-high tights anymore. But does looking cute even still matter to me?
Now, how about you?
If you’re standing on the verge of re-entry, how are you feeling about it? If you’re still deep in the trenches of pandemic fatigue, what is sustaining you? If you’re facing a second (or third) form of lockdown, how is it different for you this time?
As always, I love to hear from you, even if I have a backlog of replies. Wherever you are in this ever-shifting spectrum of human experience, remember: you are not alone, and nothing lasts forever. I wish you all the courage and good fortune in the world.
See you in two weeks!
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