Going back to the office isn’t a return to “normal”. The pre-COVID19 era isn’t coming back. The “normal” it represents is nostalgia. Like the pre 9-11, pre tsunami, pre war (you pick the war) eras there is no “going back”. The “old normal” is gone. Anyone who hopes for its return is asking for horse and carriage after mass produced cars have taken over the roads.
If you are grieving for that time, avoid focusing on the arrival of a “new normal”. All we got at the moment is a transition. Where what constitutes a valid fact is debated. What seems reasonable to one person is madness to the other. Finding a middle ground isn’t easy or fast. It will happen in the foggy, bumpy path of getting stuff done in a post lockdown world.
There’s an incurable (as of this writing) infectious respiratory decease lurking in the world. Its a sneeze, a forgotten hand wash, a plane ride from returning. It means figuring out new habits, ways of doing things. Worked out in the jungle of what’s safe, socially acceptable, economically sustainable. As with any human response to drastic change, the process will be a slog.
I offer no prophecies of how that slog will turn out. I’m trying not to be paralysed by grieving for people who are suffering beyond anything I can comprehend. I’m amazed at the good fortune I’ve had in this crisis. Despite that or because of it, I’m confident we’ll muddle through.
The rate of shocks to daily life will settle. There will be new habits and rituals which will become old fast. Like the bag checks and the check points of the war days. With things slacking off between bomb blasts.
We will adapt to the new uncomfortable. Talk with nostalgia of the old discomforts. Whine about the new manifestations of the old shit – cricket minutia, corruption, looting (mislabelled as politics out of politeness).
Life will bleed on.
Cerno 