Mondays have come and gone in the days of the coronaverse. It was a Monday in March and the winter snows still clung to the ski runs and rooftops of Big White. It was a Monday I won’t forget. The first Monday I began my journey exploring the new normal I found myself in. Reality had sunk in and our ski hill closed for the season. Many other businesses soon fell victim to the panic that the pandemic invoked.
Now we are seven months into the pandemic. I am seven months into my new path in life. In many ways, I am grateful that these innocuous strands of RNA collided and brought our world to a standstill. It was a brief pause in a world that cannot stay motionless for long. In the quiet moments, I can reflect on where I have been in this last half-year of change. If only the tragic circumstances that brought about my changes hadn’t caused so much pain.
I have made many connections in these days of covid, the biggest connection is with myself. I have found my muse and now do my best to stay in touch with it. I am one of the lucky ones who has been spared the pain of lost income and lost loved ones.
My pain is more of a physical one.
The pain I feel sometimes overwhelms everything, and I do my best to resist the urge to just sit and give in, give up. I push down the ache and agony in my back and head. Life is about overcoming things that cause us pain, connecting us to deeper meaning.
Many businesses have suffered pain these last months. These businesses are people’s lives and livelihoods. The pain that has been wrought by our viral foe is real and will leave a lasting impact that will transcend generations.
Beneath all the economic pain is the pain caused to those who have lost their lives and their loved ones. This pain sometimes can be overshadowed by the noise created by all the hardships and trauma surrounding us. Overdose deaths have skyrocketed and suicides are up. But we can’t forget those who this pandemic has hurt the most. We can’t ignore those who have lost life, or their health to this novel coronavirus no one completely understands.
In Canada our governments are trying to cope with creating a balance, trying to find a way forward that will cause the least amount of pain. BC has managed to flatten the curve and as we face an increase in cases the health experts urge caution. We are told to keep only to our immediate family to reduce our contacts. We live in a connected world and it is hard to stay separate, hard to stay apart.
Keeping distanced is causing its own pain.
In these days of sorrow we search for the rays of sunshine, look for the glimmers of hope. In one month our ski hill will reopen. Thirty days from now we will be given back something the virus took away too soon. I look forward to the day I can put on my boards and embark on a new season of joy.
When I am gliding through the powder in the trees I will feel that freedom again. Riding the snow removes the pain and in those moments of powder glory, nothing else matters. It will be the snow, the next turn, and the escape from the coronaverse that will help me get through all the pain.