I am one of the 2 or 3 people on earth who is not particularly a fan of Springtime. Since my childhood in Vermont, I haven’t liked its fickle “This morning it’s 65! This afternoon it’s snowing!” behavior. I’m not a big fan of the color yellow, daylight after 6 pm, or Easter baskets (what’s with that fake green tinsel-grass?!). Historically, I’m just one of those weirdoes who likes things kinda dark and bleak. It makes me feel contemplative and cozy.

But a strange thing happened over the last year of COVID hibernation: I have become a person who is excited about Spring. The soon-to-be-reality of daffodils makes my heart sing. I’m enjoying the lengthening of the days. It’s still chilly, but the sun is higher in the sky. All of this feels exhilarating, for perhaps the first time in my life.

I’ve noticed other first time experiences.

Pre-pandemic, I drove about 2000 miles per month (not a typo). I enjoy driving, and people tell me they feel safe with me behind the wheel.

In 2020, I drove about 99% less. The other day I was headed to a doctor’s appointment and noticed how FAST cars go, and how much skill it takes to look over your shoulder or in your rearview mirror to change lanes, all the while driving FORWARD. Even looking off into the distance to read a road sign was something I haven’t done much of this year, and I can tell that my sight and my reflexes have changed. Intellectually, I know that cars can be lethal weapons, but I haven’t actually FELT that until this year. Driving is demanding, people!

Another new experience this year has been my reaction to my fellow humans. I see very few of them in the flesh, but when I do, I usually cross the street. In the past, I’ve sometimes wished I didn’t have to interact, but physically avoiding other pedestrians was not my default reaction. I also notice right away if they are masked or not, and if not, I levy a heavy critique about a person I do not even know. I get why I do that, but I don’t like it in myself. When did I get so judgy?

Perhaps the biggest takeaway from 2020 is the sober realization of how vulnerable I am, how vulnerable we all are. I’ve always known that “life has no guarantees” and that “things can change in an instant” but this year has been the full-on experience of those truths. When people say, “anything can happen” that means ANYTHING. CAN. HAPPEN.

Still, as much as I have chafed at being benched, I have also become acutely aware of the ease and beauty of my life at home. Even when things are not going well, there is so much to enjoy and be grateful for. As grey as this last year has been, it has also had many moments in technicolor.

Suffice it to say that this pandemic has changed me.

And that makes me wonder what I am releasing that I may not be fully aware of yet? Who have I become in these long pandemic months, and who am I becoming? How am I better now than I was a year ago? What in me has atrophied, or died? When we all walk out of our enclaves, un-masked faces lifted to the sun, who will we be? What will we joyfully reclaim from The Before Times, and what is gone forever? How has this pandemic changed me? Changed us?

The answers are unknown, and may well shift as we readjust to a post-pandemic world. What I know for sure is that we have to make that adjustment together, as best we can.

Fortunately, anything can happen.