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This year has been hard for everyone. We’re social creatures, and to be so cut off and isolated from each other is not good for our wellbeing. The winter doldrums have returned, but the cabin fever that usually arrives with them has been here for a while now. We’ve all spent so long metaphorically staring at each other from our windows, wondering when it will be okay to come together again, and I think a lot of us have realized the little voice in our heads saying “Is this safe? Should you feel guilty about this?” may not have an expiration date.
I keep telling myself that there’s going to be an end point, and once we get there it will all be better, and I’ll feel refreshed and ready to start whatever is next. But the truth is there won’t be that single moment, no mass catharsis where everyone can suddenly pretend it’s The Before Times once again. And for myself and everyone else that’s feeling burned out, it’s becoming increasingly clear that it will be neither quick nor easy to break out of this rut.
I have felt a little adrift for a few years now, but it’s really compounded this year. I’ve spent this year as a stay at home dad, and at times it’s been a real struggle to find my sense of self. Society places very little value on the work of caring for and raising a family, especially for men, and to try to process that at the same time as everything else has delivered some tough times. We say that there’s nothing more important than family, but when you find yourself in this position, you see how much of it is just lip service. This is not where I saw myself five years ago, and it’s been very difficult to compartmentalize the importance and value of spending time with my kids with the sense that I’m essentially providing nothing of value, both to my family and society. I know it isn’t true, but if you’re not doing something with an easily identifiable monetary value, what you’re doing is valued at zero.
It ebbs and flows, but the feeling of dislocation never fully leaves. You spend enough time stewing over the small things that you don’t have, and you lose sight not just of the big picture, but of the things you’re good at. I’m the father of two little girls and I feel like I have no idea what I’m doing. I've spent so little time with other humans lately that I feel like I forgot how to have a conversation. And I’ve run into a wall in the kitchen so hard that I question whether I’m someone that should be writing a newsletter about food.
But sometimes when you least expect it, you start to see light pouring in through the cracks. This week was the first time in a while where we meal-planned and I felt excited about it.
It’s nothing fancy, but for whatever reason it tickles my brain just right that I feel a sense of excitement about food. It’s nice, actually, to feel good, FYI. Feeling a spark, even if it’s a small one, feels like a win, and those are hard to come by at the moment.
Lately I’ve been telling myself that I have 95% of what I need to be totally happy, and that I should not spend so much time perseverating on the 5%. 95 is so much more than 5, but when you’re that close to 100, you tend to only see what is missing. I’m incredibly lucky to be in the position that I’m in, with a healthy, happy family and friend network, a roof over my head, and intellectual outlets that (sometimes) give me joy and self-fulfillment. But when times are tough, all you see are the things you don’t have.
I am not a fan of the personal wellness and mindfulness fads that have spread throughout our culture over the past few years. It’s one thing to be glad for the things you have, but things like toxic positivity and gratitude work against recognizing and addressing problems, on both a personal and societal level. It’s okay to be mad when things are bad, even if you have some good things going for you. And right now, things are terrible. But there is a difference between recognizing the bad and focusing exclusively on the bad, and doing too much of the latter can cause you to spiral into a dark place.
Ultimately, it’s the things that we’ve been stuck with this whole time that will pull us through. It feels counterintuitive, but as things trickle back towards whatever normal is, we have to re-center the constants in our lives like family, our work, and our hobbies, and see them not as anchors around our necks, but as the things that keep us stable and grounded. It’s not always easy or fun, but they are the things that make us, well, Us. It’s seeing the 95% that you have and realizing how much that is.
We’re closer to The End of all this than when we started. But trying to dig our nails in and holding on in hopes that getting to The End makes everything better is a losing proposition. The destination isn’t going to fix everything for you. We have to do that ourselves. Maybe this year we’ll make it happen.
This is a great post and I look forward to your menus and musings!