The Fallacy of Isolation

I’m done lying to myself. I am not good. I am not fine. I am utterly and miserably exhausted. It feels like I am failing at everything. I am yearning for my old life while still trying to make sense of the whirlwind that we have all been experiencing for the past year.

It feels like I am watching my life pass me by. I could be working harder and doing more, but most of the time I really feel like I am doing my best. Then I see posts on Instagram saying you could do more if you wanted it bad enough, and I second guess myself. What do I want? Am I willing to do the work? But I’m tired...

My only connection to people is through my phone screen or Zoom where I quietly observe what could be if not for the pandemic, if not for the lack of time, and if not for my fear. I think about all the trips I could have taken to be with friends and family. Or how there is so much more of New York that I have yet to discover, and I see people doing these things, traveling and exploring, and I’m still so fearful of the virus. 

For the past year I have been forced to confront my mortality. I’ve had to attend wake services on Zoom. I’ve had to mourn the death of loved ones on my own. I’ve been grieving so many things for so long, and I am still so determined to fight for joy. In confronting my mortality and trying to uncover what I want this life to mean to me, I have been asking myself, “if I died today would I be proud of the life I have lived?”

In many ways I am so proud of who I’ve become and who I’m becoming. When I look back at younger versions of myself and all that she wanted, I’ve accomplished it all and so much more. But along the way, I realized that the dreams I had and the life I’m building don’t really feel like mine. Maybe I’m changing and my desires are evolving, but I want to be proud of my life. Not proud because I’m doing what is expected of me or what my parents believe is good for me. But a life that is in alignment with my very essence.

I did not realize how much fear had a hold on my imagination. When I began asking myself what my best life could look like, it looked like fitting in joy and squeezing in creativity to my current life. But that really wouldn’t be ideal. 

What if I could build my life from scratch? Where would I start? What would I want it to feel like? I ached for something more, something better. My spirit has been nudging me to believe in and for more. After I read Untamed by Glennon Doyle, I realized that the courage that I’m looking for comes from being brave enough to say yes to myself. What stuck with me is that, in order to build my best life… I have to get comfortable with the idea of disappointing others so as to avoid disappointing myself. I have gotten so used to disappointing myself that I don’t even know what I want.

Isolation has me praying desperately for the sun so that I can see the seasons change and remind myself that there is something to look forward to. The sun reminds me of newness and shines forth hope. It means I have an opportunity to figure out what it is that I want and spend some time dreaming about what I like. 

The isolation and darkness has felt a bit like being incarcerated. I feel like a prisoner of unspoken dreams and unsung aspirations, but out of this isolation I’ve made a promise to myself to sing sing sing. As hard as it is, I am no longer willing to wait. I am still exhausted, and I still do feel like I’m failing, but I am no longer going to fight these feelings. I am going to allow them to rise and pass, and honor myself by at least trying to make a way through this.

I will sing.

I will sing.

I will sing.