July: The Start of a New Year
Summertime sunset at Anna Maria Island, Florida.
A friend of mine shakes his head when he hears someone set a deadline of December 31 or a start date of January 1.
“The calendar is a man-made creation,” he says. “There’s no reason to wait to start something on January 1 if everything is teed up and ready to go now.”
I’ve thought about that a lot over the past several months. You know, since the coronavirus started circling the globe and pushing an untold number of changes on everyone’s culture and way of life.
Stay at home. Don’t see anyone. Work from home. Disinfect everything. (Remember that?) Wear a mask. Don’t gather in groups larger than 10.
Social distance. Go outside often. If you want to be around people, at least be outside.
My generation didn’t have the Great Depression to deal with. We had its after-effects and those from World War II, because our mothers and fathers grew up during the 1930s and ’40s.
Our defining events were the Cuban Missile Crisis, the Kennedy assassination, the Vietnam War, the Civil Rights Movement, Watergate, AIDS and 9/11.
I’d argue that of those, 9/11 wreaked the most havoc, almost immediately creating the “new normal” that everyone says will exist here. The terrorist attack on the Twin Towers that day nearly 19 years ago robbed us of a sense of security as a nation and brought on a series of sweeping changes that continue to impact American life.
That event immediately delivered a new and most powerful federal agency, the Department of Homeland Security. It brought us the Patriot Act, which led to the most intense in-country spying we’ve ever condoned in this country.
And it gave us the beloved TSA, an arm of Homeland Security that runs the lives of everyone who steps foot in a U.S. airport.
New Defining Moment
Who knows if the coronavirus – OK, COVID-19 – will be that new No. 1 defining moment for our generation? Regardless, the pandemic promises to leave a significant impact on us now and almost certainly later as the virus’s long-term effects become understood.
Like so many other writers – hell, everyone – around me and around the country, I’ve wrestled with the emotional roller coaster that comes with such drastic daily change. One week the news is good: trend lines show a decrease in the virus’s spread. Two weeks later, the spike of infected people seems uncapped here in Florida and in many other states.
There’s also the emotional turmoil of just communicating with and dealing with neighbors, colleagues and the large number of people to whom we’re connected on social media. People dug in on one side of the political aisle or the other. And then came the disease deniers.
Then came the death of George Floyd and others at the hands of overly aggressive law enforcement, and suddenly COVID-19 joined hands with Black Lives Matter, which at this point seems like a damned significant rebirth of the Civil Rights Movement.
We have so much divides in our country today: Black vs. White. Haves vs. Have Nots. The Middle Class vs. Wall Street. Men vs. Women. Red vs. Blue.
We have so many issues that need solving before anyone can rightfully claim that America is as great as we think it should be:
Universal healthcare (hello: COVID-19)
Lack of affordable housing/rent in most major cities
Race and gender inequality
A foundering Middle Class
Immigration policies (remember those?)
Failing schools
Militarized law enforcement
Too much money in the political process
Sigh.
Dates Mean Nothing
This is a long-winded way of saying that I am taking my friend’s advice. Dates are arbitrary. Time is a man-made construct.
Yes, the forces of nature, especially life on this rock, are unyielding, and we have to deal with them as they come. But there are times when we can do so on our terms.
My terms include this: July 1 was not the midway point of 2020. It was the beginning of a new year.
Very little on January 1 was the same as it was on July 1. Relationships are different. Authors have found one of two aspects of "quarantine life" is true:
Authors who live alone or who live with no kids in the house seem to be getting more done. They have as much or more quiet time than ever. John Grisham, for one, says he's so far ahead on his next novel that his publisher will be stunned when he turns in his manuscript.
Authors who have kids seem to be . . . struggling. Many have found it difficult to lock themselves away for dedicated writing time.
John Grisham (right) on a Zoom broadcast in May to promote his new book, Camino Winds
As for me, I’m home almost every day. I work from home. Obviously I write from home. I journal at home. Meditate at home.
We cook a hell of a lot more than we ever have – and we cooked a lot before now – and we don’t venture out much.
We wave at our neighbors, many of whom are more shut in than even we are. (We confess to having six-person, outside cocktail hours and dinner parties that are socially distanced. But, then, we’re a neighborhood that usually does two block parties a year.)
Live Music Again Please
My wife and I crave the next time we can drive around the corner to one of our favorite bars and listen to a local musician tuning his guitar and taking requests again. It’ll happen.
She found a number of artists from around the country who gave Facebook Live performances when the restaurants and bars were ordered closed. Some were good, some were not.
It wasn’t the same as walking out the door of that bar between songs, waving and dropping a $5 bill in the bucket to say, “Thanks for letting us sing along for a few minutes.”
Over the past three months, I’ve hopped onto Zooms – that is how we refer to these video calls, yes? – featuring authors who had pandemic-era new book releases and others who simply participated in educating the masses. Some of them shared how they feel perfectly normal during the time of stay-at-home and how they are so far ahead on their current writing project because, well, there’s really nothing else to do.
Others say they are behind because they’re emotionally wrung out and anxious. Others are coping with the reality of others in their family being home with them when they usually are not. So now they have to find a way to write with others, you know, around.
New Beginning Is Now
In all these cases, again: This is a beginning. Whatever this new normal is, this is how we’ll define 2020. This is not just where the second half of the year starts, this is where we begin again.
We’ve heard forever that “nothing is guaranteed.” And “live like there’s no tomorrow.” And “every day is a gift.”
(Many days don’t feel like gifts, I must say.)
I’m not sure I know how to live like there’s no tomorrow. What I am sure of is that the past few months have taught me to get going.
Start things and finish them. Work a bit harder, make sure to take time out to enjoy something every day and every week. Create things to look forward to, either tomorrow’s writing session or this weekend’s time with my wife or friends.
I’m not one to suggest whether there’s a bigger meaning to living on earth and doing whatever we do, only that we can believe what is directly in front of us and how we deal with it.
I’d like to make those actions meaningful. It’s past time to start.
