2020 has been an emotional hurricane. Quarantine took away many of the comforts that made our struggles bearable, and allowed old wounds tend to fester in isolation. I'm no exception, and neither are many of my friends and colleagues.
![Photo cred. OU School of Music Theatre and Dance](https://static.wixstatic.com/media/a27d24_9ee078d21d554c078f84a7c4b9a956eb~mv2.jpg/v1/fill/w_980,h_653,al_c,q_85,usm_0.66_1.00_0.01,enc_auto/a27d24_9ee078d21d554c078f84a7c4b9a956eb~mv2.jpg)
In a normal year, I'd keep press forward, and knowing that tomorrow will be different was a comfort in the face of adversity. Making art with friends, traveling, going to concerts, and gigging were a part of the daily routine. All of that came screeching to a halt in March.
Performing arts were halted, traveling was squashed, and the opportunities to meet with loved ones in person all but disappeared. For the first time in a long time, I was alone, and so was everyone I knew. Like many of us, I waited for normalcy to return, but when that possibility was far beyond the horizon, I looked inward instead of ahead.
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Breathing fresh air, practicing mindfulness, presence and focus while treading paths in my hometown I haven't walked in years was liberating. Seeing something greater than myself flourish in spite of turmoil was deeply comforting.
Rekindling old hobbies and having the time to cook for the first time in what feels like years has affected me greatly. Doing things for yourself, and accepting your progress at your own pace without the distraction of others is liberating in its own right as well.
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The little things are what make this all bearable. Finding freedoms and choices to offset what would otherwise be stagnation. Choosing to prioritize your physical health. Stimulating your mind with a good book for the first time in years, or visiting an old favorite to brush shoulders with old memories and old comforts.
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