What Did You Learn? A Post-Pandemic Reflection

The proverbial light at the end of the tunnel has finally arrived. It’s been more than a year in the making but the availability of the COVID-19 vaccine promises the start of a new time, one when we can gather with friends, hug our extended family, and attend work and social functions in person. Some say life is returning to normal.

But the truth is, we’re returning to a “new normal.” We’ve all been changed by these months of isolation and uncertainty. We’ve survived a war and have the scars to prove it. Still, many of us have come out the other side stronger, wiser. Some of us boast of new insights that only a war can teach.

To learn more about how we humans understood this last year, Pew Research Center spoke to more than 9,000 Americans. Take a look at what some said:

·        “Life has slowed down and brought family and friends closer.”

·        “Even for an introvert, there’s such a thing as too much isolation.”

·        “I’ve realized I don’t need all the “things” in my life promoted by the retail segment of our society. I really don’t need to keep up with the Joneses.”

·        “I retired during this. I wanted to travel. Now it feels unsafe.”

In a previous blog post, I outlined the benefits of journaling about your pandemic experience in real time. Now that we’re coming to the other side, I urge you to add a thorough post-script. When we write, we reflect, we learn, we grow. And we preserve our stories for future generations who will read about this unnerving year in their history books.

So, here, today, I ask you: What did you learn in this last year? What lessons will carry you forward? Were there any positives for you? What was the biggest hurdle?

What we just witnessed was historic. What we learned, how it changed us, is most definitely worth sharing when we write our life stories.

Please let me know if you would like my help.

Join a (Virtual) Memoir Writing Workshop

I’ve written before about the benefits of memoir writing workshops. The exploration, the learning, the bonding. They are all for the taking when workshop participants embrace the concept of writing their life stories (two pages at a time, according to my style) and sharing their stories with other participants.

What’s different about today from the last time I shared this information, of course, is that we’re facing a pandemic. Social distancing is the way of the world. The good news is that memoir writing workshops are as beneficial through Zoom and similar platforms as they are in face-to-face environments. Exploration, learning, and yes, bonding all happen in comparable measures online. I know from my teaching experience that the computer screen is no barrier when it comes to humans who are open to making personal connections.

So, if you’re looking to socialize in what is now month six of too much isolation, it may be the perfect time to join a virtual memoir writing class. I’m thrilled to be offering one through my local community center come October but these workshops are available everywhere and they are goldmines for personal growth.

If you’d like more information, please let me know. I’d be delighted to welcome you into my class or direct you to other resources in your own area.

Stay well and safe!

Life as a Mountain? Or a Series of Moments?

“I used to think of life as a path — it’s going somewhere and you walk on it. Or life is a mountain and you’re going to climb it to the top. Now I think life is a series of moments.”

Lucy Kalanithi is the speaker of the above quote. In talking about her own life story, Kalanithi shared this belief.

She continued, “When Paul (Lucy’s husband and author of When Breath Becomes Air) was sick, I could see it as a moment. Same with [my daughter] Cady being a baby. I was like, ‘This person needs me and this person needs me, and that’s what I’m doing right now.’”

It’s a legitimate philosophy about life.

Some people feel differently, however. Many clients feel like Kalanithi did previously—that life is a path with a momentous “end” where all things become clear. They tell me this as we write their life story’s final chapter together.

Here’s what one client had to say about it:

“I once had a doctor who told me that life is like climbing a hill…. I believe that we continue to go up that hill as long as we live so that when we reach old age, we can look down from that lofty mountain….”

What do you believe? Is life a mountain or a series of moments?

It’s an interesting question and one with an answer that may change with age. Or maybe not.

Regardless of how you look at it, your life story is worth exploring and writing. Your moments—falling in love, becoming a parent, finding your passion, fighting illness—may build to one meaningful mountain or may remain unconnected memories.

Both views are okay. And I’d like to hear about your life story either way.

Contact me to learn more.

COVID-19: Writing Your History in Real Time

When I interview clients about their life stories, I focus on the unique aspects of their development. Their childhood, their family, their romances, their jobs. We talk about the little moments that defined them and how they grew into the people they are today. These moments are the backbone of every life story and we spend many interview hours discussing them.

But there is always more.

None of us exists in a bubble and so we also talk about the world around us. I ask my clients how their lives were impacted by the Depression, the World Wars, the assassination of JFK, the civil rights movement.

The chapters that place my client in a moment of time allow younger generations to connect to the past and to their loved one in a way that would not otherwise be possible. Sure, today’s youth may know that Jackie Robinson was the first African American to play in the MLB. But did they know that their grandfather got a black eye from a schoolyard fight when a classmate argued that “[African Americans] shouldn’t play baseball?”

That makes it real.

Which brings me to this …

We are now living through a major global catastrophe. The coronavirus has disrupted our lives in a way that none of us would have imagined. People we know and love are dying. Once-thriving businesses are shutting down. We are wearing masks and gloves wherever we go. We are bombarded with terrifying messages every day.

It is a very different world than it was three months ago.

So, my advice to you is this – write.

Write about your thoughts and feelings on this pandemic. Discuss – in very specific terms – how it has affected your daily life, your attitudes toward work and money, your views on health, your relationships. Do you have new worries? New priorities?

How is this crisis changing you?

Everything is painfully fresh right now and not only does research tell us that writing is healing, the life story professional in me knows that writing your journey through this time will benefit future generations. This period will be discussed in history books for sure.

But only you can make it personal.

Please let me know if you want my help.

What Was Your First Car?

I was barely listening to the local news the other day when one line spoken by the television anchor caught my ear. The story was about buying a first car for your newly licensed teenager. The top ten new and used cars were highlighted on the screen and the newscaster stressed that safety, reliability, and price—not sleek design—should be the prime factors a parent should consider.

It was the closing sentence that made me look up.

“If your teen is excited about his new car, you’ve picked the wrong one.”

It made me think back to my first car. My grandfather’s old Pontiac Grand LeMans, circa 1972. It was huge. And ugly. And extremely unreliable.

But it was free. And that clinched the deal in my house. It didn’t matter, I was ecstatic. I had freedom.

One client of mine, in his published life story, recalled his first car this way:

Everybody, well nearly everybody, remembers their first car. Mine was a 1937 Ford Convertible—bought in late 1950 for $100.

Even with gas at 29 cents a gallon, running costs were high. To get across the Bay Bridge, consumption of radiator water was matched with consumption of engine oil.

Intended as a chick attractor, I failed. It became a detractor instead.

And still, my client claimed, “It did the job.”

We all make due with whatever car becomes our “first.” Regardless of its look, we smile, decades later, basking in our memory of its smell and feel.

Did it have a hole in the flooring? (My husband’s car did.) Did it reliably go in reverse? (Mine did not.)

If your first car left an impression, tell your readers about it when you write your life story.

And send a copy of your published text to the newscaster of your local news station.

All first cars are exciting in my book.