Mom, have I lost my best years to COVID-19?

Finding Fulfilment During A Pandemic, Picture by Erna Drion

“Mom, have I lost my best years to COVID19?” is a reflection on finding fulfilment during a pandemic, and how I seek to attend life when restrictions are lifted. I got COVID-19 after I wrote the article—I was physically restricted. Was life putting my insights to the test?

Mindfulness is the flavor “du jour”, but my no means a walk in the park. Having COVID-19 exhausted me, but it forced me to deepen my reflection and insight—perhaps an experience I’ll reflect on in another article. What do you think?

Mom, have I lost my best years to COVID-19?

There are two beasts that fight in the Cherokee legend “Two Wolves,” as told by a grandfather. Who will win? the grandson asks. The wolf you feed is the one that grows strong. The legend draws a parallel to our inner battles: Do you feed the wolf driven by anger, greed, regret, sorrow? Or the one driven by peace, joy, humility, kindness?

Mom and I are sitting on a bench in our apartment in Engadin getting ready for another day of skiing in the sun. “Mom, have I lost my best years to COVID?” She tilts her head, and scans my face, hoping this will provide more insight. The family is healthy, no deaths, the view is majestic.

I try my best to feed the right wolf. I really do. With COVID, my life has become monotone, a constant. No ups, no downs. It’s fine, I tell myself.

Thoughts come; thoughts go. My mind wanders between memories with friends, time spent abroad—inspiration, new cultures, new climates, new, new, new.

I look forward to shaping new experiences.

Soon, I think.

I go over my list: comfortable shelter, more sleep, more time for coffee, online dance tutorials, time for books, time to self, time with friends, time spent in nature. Time to think. More time.

And yet, time feels like silk—slipping through my fingers, and I have no grip.

Why now? When is this over? I don’t feel like doing this anymore!

Being grateful is hard work. And when I don’t feel like another round of “I’m grateful for.” I allow myself to ponder. I ponder on the why that something happened to me! I’m seemingly searching for deeper meaning—it’s a nice distraction, and more entertaining than feeling sorry for myself. I’m definitely not feeling sorry for myself…

Mom goes back to minding her business. I feel ignored. Whatever.

I surrender, and I stare out into the blinding sun. Life’s beauty and the meaning we draw of it is an interpretation we must cultivate. My definition of beauty in life was to get out, interact and experience the world with people—similar to a walk through a Tanzanian spice market: colorful, vibrant, crowded, never the same—stimulating all my senses, providing me with a sense of fulfillment.

In his book Limit Yourself: And Unleash Your Creativity Ralph Burkhardt, quotes the famous composer Igor Stravinsky who famously said: “The more constraints one imposes, the more one frees oneself of the chains that shackle the spirits.”

2020 imposed countless restrictions. It forced me to shed light on what was working and what wasn’t. When your senses can no longer be stimulated by externalities, you look at what is stimulating you from the inside out—no trip to Paris can counterbalance areas in my life that aren’t emulating as much energy as I needed them to.

COVID took the blinds off, and I saw that I felt just as isolated pre pandemic as I do now.

An isolation of self.

The Cherokee legend is too binary for my taste. Yes, let’s feed our positive thoughts—but how about we explore the story behind our negative thoughts and feelings?

Are we questioning our negative wolf? Letting it awaken us to our instincts?

I still yearn for parts of my life pre–2020: I miss music festivals and hanging out in groups of friends, the liveliness and contagion of a cheerful crowd, the effortless inspiration from unexpected encounters. Nothing can replace in-person social needs.

But those times will be back, and instead of overwhelming my senses, those experiences will become richer as my definition of fulfillment has changed. I am cultivating an ability to hone acute awareness—that’s the true meaning of attendance, experience and ultimately fulfillment. And I’m grateful for that.

Mom gets up, she smiles at me—the warmth of her smile feels like a hug.

A hug that I will hopefully remember forever.

Hey everyone,

I hope you’re enjoying my series of posts about leadership. Maybe you have some great ideas for topics which you’d like to see covered here?

Let me know! I value your feedback and participation!