the gift of the year
Last night a friend asked if I thought I would write a piece about the year, kind of a year-end review, and my immediate knee-jerk reaction was, “uh, no.” Couldn’t we just skip the reflection and head recklessly into 2021 without even a peek at the rearview mirror? For the last nine months I have written steadily about the year - “now more than ever”, “in this time of COVID”, “this year in particular” were a few of my most recurring lines. I spoke about pivoting and masking and persevering and about our heroes and silver linings and our strength as a community. Today I just wanted to shove 2020 out the door, like I would an intruder or a guest who had overstayed their welcome.
This same friend also had a gift for me; “It’s the gift of the year, actually,” she said. And as I gently undid the wrapping, I imagined the possibilities - could it be toilet paper, fancy hand sanitizer, a subscription to Amazon Prime, a pajama set? It was too small to be a Peloton bike or a fire pit.
I took my time; it was the last of the season after all, if I didn’t count the presents that were trapped alongside my Christmas cards somewhere in a Fed Ex sorting station. And I thought about this special gift and wondered if it might be the gift of perspective - a bonus we all received this year in one form or another.
Simply put, we look at life differently because of the past nine months. Collectively we have changed the way we think about healthcare workers, essential workers, and even teachers. We are more likely to thank the checkout person in a grocery store and mean it. We now celebrate and cherish what we used to consider normal - giving and receiving hugs, seeing the smile on someone’s face, visiting with family and friends, and going to church in person. I would like to think that I am more forgiving, more flexible, and maybe more fluent. I have let go of many expectations, with a perfunctory, “Oh, well - 2020.”
On top of that, I think of how much my vocabulary has expanded this year, and that, too, is a gift, I guess. Words like pandemic and contact tracing and rapid tests and herd immunity, social distancing, super spreader - phrases I had only heard in contagion-type horror movies and had never uttered until this year. These concepts were associated with other places, other people, different times. And as my vocabulary expanded, so too did my understanding of and interest in these other places and other people.
Wrapping off, I opened the box. In it was a circular contraption that attached to a tripod.
“It’s Zoom lighting!” exclaimed my friend.
Ah yes, Zoom - another addition to my ever-increasing vocabulary. For the past nine months, I have attended almost daily Zoom calls (and I used to cringe at the thought of FaceTime). I met with boards, joined reunions, gathered with friends across the globe, and attended our town RTM meetings, all on Zoom. Sometimes I showered and dressed, but mostly I wore sweatpants (and as we neared Christmas, a Santa hat). I Zoomed from my desk, from a hotel room in Florida, and from my bed. Zooming has become very commonplace, and even though there will be over two million vaccine doses administered by year’s end, I know I still have many Zooms ahead of me. Awesome gift.
We didn’t wait; we set it up and tried it out on an iPhone. Wow! It worked. Gone was the pasty winter white skin and the dull hair in need of a touch-up. Gone, too, were the dark circles beneath our eyes. We seemed to glow, and we relished in it. Good lighting has a way of capturing the best in landscapes and in portraits. It’s a photographer’s secret weapon, and in some ways that is what this year did – it captured the best in people despite a backdrop that was dark and ominous.
As I drifted off to sleep thinking of my new Zoom lighting, I wondered what the special gift of the upcoming year might be. Would it be dancing shoes or a cocktail dress? Maybe a belt, signifying the end of loungewear? Plane tickets anywhere, everywhere, or an invitation to hear live music in a loud and crowded bar. Who knows?
But I do know that we learned a few things this past year:
Through painful losses and missed milestones, we mourned and persevered, together.
We gained a new appreciation for so much that we took for granted.
We found creative ways to connect and continue and celebrate.
From behind our masks, we looked outwards, and noticed our neighbors and strangers and even our friends in a new way, in a new light.
Last December, we had no idea what 2020 would bring. We were hopeful, creating resolutions and making plans. Truth is, we don’t know what 2021 will bring, but we are hopeful, creating resolutions and making plans. And maybe “now more than ever”, “in this year of COVID”, “this year in particular”, we will embrace the perspective we gained, that we earned, really, and push 2020 into the backdrop, welcoming the gift of the first light in the break of a new day.
Okay, 2021 - “show us what you got”.
Happy New Year!