Our Year of Passive Living
We are coming up on a year since the term ‘quarantine’ jumped off the leaves of dusty history books and defined our reality. Many of us have been doing…nothing. With…no one. If you consider ‘to live’ an active verb, we’ve scarcely been alive. What lessons can we draw from a year of passive living?
Throughout the pandemic, I’ve acknowledged general good fortune. The past year has been a terrible time for anyone in flux. If you had to move, find a job, apply to school, have a baby, or undergo surgery, the task was significantly more difficult. My basic life condition is unchanged. It’s been a tough year for people living alone, or in small quarters. I have an ample house with a basement workshop, and a congenial housemate who’s a terrific cook. It’s been a stir-crazy year for people stuck at home. I’ve been fortunate to maintain a steady gig at the local hospital, thereby claiming a legitimate excuse to be out and about. I’m also the perfect demographic to survive the pandemic least scathed. At 66, I’m on the young side of those most likely to die from coronavirus. Yet, since I’m retired, and hardly essential, I can avoid unwarranted exposure.
