Two years on...Courage, Compassion, Connection

Serendipitously, it's been exactly two years since my last post.  It certainly wasn't my intention to go so long without writing but the pandemic has eaten up large chunks of my life, including my writing. 

The weird thing is that two years on, many of the sentiments I expressed in my last post remain relevant. I'm still struggling to make sense of the retired life; still too often pulled towards serving other people's priorities rather than my own.

So what have I done with the past two years? I spent a lot of that time learning and sharing information related to Covid19 in an effort to keep those I care about safe, and contribute to smarter public policy in my own little corner of the world. 

Nova Scotia - the small Canadian province in which I live - was one of the safest places to be during the first two years of the pandemic. Then we elected a Conservative government, which - contrary to its election promises - almost immediately began lifting protective measures and withholding the information and other resources Nova Scotians needed to keep themselves and others safe. A little more than a year later, the results are exactly what many predicted. The number of Covid19 deaths in NS in 2022 was roughly 5 times the number of deaths in 2020 and 2021 combined, and the situation so far this year appears worse - which is both heartbreaking and infuriating. 

Fortunately, Husband and I have managed to stay healthy so far - though I'm not 100% sure I didn't have a mild case last fall. I never tested positive but I certainly had symptoms and have experienced some very typical sequelae in the months since. However, it may be those sequelae were caused by the Lyme disease I caught early last summer. It was treated quickly and aggressively so I'm hopeful it's gone now but it's hard to know for sure. In any case, we have no intention of squandering the privilege we have of avoiding infection/reinfection for as long as possible. I'd still like my retirement to last more than just a few years. 

On a more positive note, I've learned a bunch of new stuff in the past two years - including how to make reliable pastry and sourdough bread, how to take better photos, and how to cook a wide variety of new foods. I also worked with Husband to design a greenhouse, which was finished in time to allow us to do a substantial amount of growing in it last summer. At the end of the season, we constructed several new garden beds, which we hope to put to good use in the coming year. We also traveled around Nova Scotia a fair bit in a small RV we bought in August 2020. Last summer, we used it from early May to November, racking up more than 6000 kms and traveling to every corner of this beautiful province. 

In an effort to contribute to community, I also served several months on the board of our local credit union, and took on various roles for the Bridgewater Photo Society. Then, early last summer, I joined up with small group of like-minded folks to form Protect our Province - Nova Scotia, a community-based initiative aimed at lobbying for sensible policies related to Covid19, sharing high quality information about the disease and effective mitigations, and fostering greater community care through "on the ground" projects, such as one designed to teach people to build Corsi-Rosenthall boxes so they can clean the air in their homes and workplaces, and another to distribute high quality masks to those who need them most. The PoP-NS work is deeply satisfying, though there remains much to do given so many of our political and health leaders are determined to pretend the pandemic is over. (As an aside, I'll note there are PoP groups in several other provinces, including BC, Alberta, NB and PEI.)

I've found pursuing creative projects a good deal harder. Photography, cooking and an assortment of renovations have been my main creative outlets, but I'm hoping to branch out a little this year.  I have a couple of ideas for photo books I'd like to put together, and I'd love to get back to knitting and quilting. I expect writing will continue to be hit and miss, though I have been slowly but surely making my way through Renée Hartlieb's wonderful book, Writing Your Way, which has me journaling again at least. 

My biggest challenge at the moment is recovering some reasonable level of physical fitness. Two years in the pandemic, I'd fallen very out of shape and put on 15 pounds. In the past year, I've made a good start at recovering some level of fitness through regular yoga, long walks and occasional runs, and have lost several pounds, but I still have a long way to go to feel really comfortable in my skin. I'm doing my best to focus more on how I feel than how I look, but I can't say I'm pleased I'm buying blue jeans two or three sizes bigger than those I bought before I retired 4 years ago. On the other hand, I remind myself I'm lucky to be as healthy as I am at my age (nearly 61!) with the knowledge and inclination to take better care of myself. 

A final thought before I sign off on what's become a much longer post than I intended. Many people are, I think, still struggling with how best to navigate this new forever-Covid reality. Of all the challenges, uncertainty as to what the future holds is perhaps the most difficult. It's been interesting to observe how people deal with that uncertainty in different ways.

A sizable minority - aided and abetted by business and government - have chosen to go along with the fairy tale that the pandemic is over, and are doing their best to live like it's 2019, despite repeated illnesses, lost loved ones, ongoing business and supply chain disruptions, and a failing healthcare system.  

Another good-sized minority realize the pandemic is ongoing but don't seem to know what to do about it. Either that, or they do know, but have chosen not to for a variety of reasons - many of which are entirely understandable. 

I fall into the last group - those who know Covid isn't over and are still able and willing to do what they can to protect themselves and others - something that's become increasingly difficult over the past year. It's hard not to be critical of those choosing to ignore reality and/or are selfishly putting their own interests ahead of others', but I try to remember that many of them aren't really the jerks they appear to be. They're just dealing with a tough situation in the best way they know how - navigating complex internal and external landscapes that are mostly invisible to the rest of us.

For my own part, I've adopted a new mantra to help me navigate the uncertainty - one I repeat quietly to myself whenever I begin to feel too angry or hopeless - "Courage, Compassion and Connection". "Courage" to continue speaking out when others can't or won't. "Compassion" to enable me to offer grace to those whose motives and decisions seem stupid and/or selfish to me. And, finally, "Connection" to remind myself of the continuing need to make space for important relationships - particularly, those that are genuinely nurturing in some way. The fact is I never had much time for superficial friendships. The older I get and the longer the pandemic drags on, the more determined I am to focus on the things and relationships that matter most.

I'll try not to wait so long to write next time. Until then, here are a few images from our travels over the past year. We're looking forward to making lots more good memories in 2023. 

Massive waves at Pt Michaud Provincial Park in September.

The main gate, Fortress of Louisbourg, after a wonderful day of exploring.

A sunset viewed from Five Islands Provincial Park in August.

The Margaretsville Wharf under a brooding August sky.

A favourite camping spot at Whale of a Time Campground, Digby Neck.

A last sunset walk at False Harbour Beach in November. 

A January hike at Ross Farm.

From our hike at Uniacke Estate yesterday afternoon.