So, this is written completely extemporaneously and with, as ever, a whole mess of convoluted thoughts and feelings at this particular "temp." (As in, time. Because "temp-" means time, get it? I do have fun.) Make of this half-cautionary, half-confessional preface what you will—notwithstanding the idiosyncrasies of my bloated, nonsensical, half-stream of half-consciousness writing voice. Also sorry-not-sorry for the probable length of the following.
Recently I've been talking to the folks in my life a lot about "where we are" (whatever that means) in this grander plotline we are all following. Not that of the ongoing pandemic and its sinusoidal motions; to call this a "grander plotline" is in the least inaccurate and small-minded, at most ignorant and harmful. Rather, that of our collective reactions and responses to it—how we are processing it (or not), talking about it (or not), changing because of it (or... Not). We've by this point been able to revisit and even recapture some of what we used to do, some of that previous era or "Before Times," the "old normal." (Take your pick of euphemism for pre-COVID.) This has certainly been possible through no small effort of our weightily-tasked public health coordinators and COVID response czars, whose guidelines we've made our best collective attempts to follow. Now that we are phasing into "green," any kind of recapture does seem closer and more possible than ever, at least right now. And there is so much excitement about that, and joy, and hope. Rightly so.
But there's an undercurrent of reality that I think is important to remind ourselves, in order to frame and to check that excitement and joy and even hope, lest these things run out of hand and undo all our hard work: We are still, very much, in the midst of an ongoing pandemic. I don't mean this pessimistically. I'm very much the last person to rain on any parade. Though our numbers are stellar, our vaccination status remarkably high, that sinusoidal motion troughing into a convenient low, there are still so many who remain vulnerable, not only across state lines or the globe but in our very own home environment, here in New Haven. We should not and cannot let ourselves forget this reality. To do so, certainly more than appellations of "grander plotlines," would actually be ignorant and harmful.
Yes, we are freer now to to dream, to convene, to plan and to reach. We all have a deep hunger for this, a yearning that has been deferred for close to two years now. But some things of that "Before Times" won't be (can't be) revisited, won't be (can't be) recaptured. And should not. So let's not.
Instead let us try to envision—as many already have and continue to both here and elsewhere—ways by which we can seize this moment, this plastic societal juncture, this immense potential energy for change (to borrow some lingo from my STEM-minded friends). Not just to tweak, not just to improve, but dare I say to transform our methods, practices, rituals, routines, habits. Plans. Expectations. Dreams.