Earlier, on my commute back from work, I realised that it was precisely last year-to-date, 16th of March, that we went into self-isolation/quarantine/lockdown/confinement.
Three hundred sixty-five days ━ with the majority of those days feeling like the Groundhog day. If you read this blog long enough, you must have read enough of my complaints about it. I did it here, here and here. And then here, here and also here.
Today, I am going try a different approach 🍷 the sedated (I have downed a couple of glasses of red) and reflective kind.
Though the energy that dominated our Covid-year collectively was inevitably The Hanged Man ━ with the long stretch of static and the perpetual of postponing and waiting cycle; now, reflecting back, I can’t help recognise some things have shifted in my Universe.
I went into the lockdown delighted knowing I could sleep an extra hour before starting my WFH-days. But these days, I wake up earlier than ever to write my morning pages, draw my tarot card and journal. So yes, Covid might have Tower-ed the routines and rituals that I held on to for most of my life, but it also single-handedly changed me into a morning person.
Speaking of Covid Tower-ing my life, it also forced me to curb my goals. I had to cancel my non-refundable flight to Sydney last March, and I have no travel plans this March. Other travel plans including to see Aurora Australis, kayak in Fiji and hike the Kumano Kodo had to be postponed.
First to 2021 and now realistically and hopefully, to 2022.
In the meantime, I rerouted my goal to run a local marathon, pass the CPA exam and print a 35mm film photobook. Simpler and not-so-Covid-depend doable goals. With that I put my goals-obsessed-Virgo-mind in peace.
I miss my parents, cousins and friends terribly, but I am so grateful the lockdown gave Fafa and myself the space to strengthen our relationship.
I didn’t bake sourdough nor make the Insta-famous Dalgona coffee; instead, I found a new bakery during my weekly walk-and-talk date with Liz and bought a Nespresso machine. I also didn’t cook nearly as much as I wished to, but I managed to come up with my Come Dine With Me menu:
Indonesian cuisine – crab pastel for the entree, prawn tauco and sayur lodeh for main and either kue lapis or es cendol for dessert.
Also, during Covid-year:
I meditated for 845 minutes, experienced Zoom fatigue, let my eyebrows grow, celebrated my birthday on FaceTime and survived 112+ days of lockdown. I deepened my connection with tarot and found new obsessions, including natural Australian honey (my current fave is Blue Gum) and hot-jam doughnuts from Queen Victoria Market. I also cut my hair twice and regretted both cuts. Now it’s back to the original length, and I am thinking to get another haircut. I guess there are things one will never learn 🤷♀️.
I still write. And this year, I have written more than I have written ever before (I am on my second Moleskine journal for the year). And I still blog. But instead of dragging my feet on KultureKween, like I had been doing the past few years BC (Before Covid), during my Covid year, I started this blog, pressed publish like a madwoman, with zero care about the SEO or the niche. I write about whatever I feel like writing, which made me feel like I turned back blogosphere time to the Live Journal era.
I entered my Covid-year by excessively checking the Worldmeter Coronavirus info every single day, and now I am in the midst of completing my #100HappyDays challenge. For that (kind of shift) I am grateful.
Most of us have adjusted to the new normal. I also know we are not out of the woods just yet. Still, with the rolling out of the vaccine and the discussion of travel bubbles, I want to think that we are nearing the end of Covid-saga. We are, dare I say, almost there.
Here is to the first and last Covid-year-versary! cin cin 🥂