Recently, my 11 year old sat me down to share some rules she would like me to follow as the rhythm of our daily lives adjusts to a new phase of the pandemic. “Imma,” she shared “you can only be gone for work two nights each week. You can’t be gone two nights in a row. And even if you have a meeting, we still need to have dinner together.”
These are not rules we lived by in the beforetimes. There was a different cadence to our lives - I was often out of the house 3-4 nights each week, and we only ate dinner together on shabbat. But the last 16 months have created new rhythms and routines. As our world opens up, as we begin to see the bottom half of people’s faces and we don’t need to fear gathering in groups in the same way, we are going to need to make some decisions. I don’t want to revert to the person I was in February 2020. I have changed. I have learned a lot about myself, about my family, about what makes our lives better. And so, I have started to wonder: how do I take the best parts of the pandemic world and adapt them into a non-pandemic world? How do I bring my new self into the world, building on what has been and creating a new kind of future?
Some of the decisions before us have to do with things like dinner plans or clothing (how comfortable have sweat pants been?!). One colleague recently told me “I am never wearing high heels again!” But this challenge is about so much more than mealtimes and sartorial choices. It’s actually existential, requiring us to think about who we really are, what really matters, and what we really don’t want to lose. In this pandemic moment we are gaining so much - hugs, dinner parties, freewheeling play dates, family reunions, Dodger games, summer camp - and the joy in this return to closeness is palpable. And yet, in the midst of this immense abundance, I don’t want to get swept up and lose sight of me - that pared down, essential version - that came alive during quarantine, nor do I want to lose the rhythms that have worked for my kids and for our family.
In a recent conversation with a mom at our school, she shared that the pandemic has allowed her to be transparent with her employer - whereas she used to sneak out of the office at 3pm and not say where she was going, she can now announce, “I am going to pick up my child at school and then work from home.” For this parent, prioritizing school pick up as a time to be with her kids, and being unashamed of that priority, is a way to bring her authentic self into our new world.
Another parent offered recently that, while shabbat dinner and lunch gatherings used to be essential on her social calendar, she plans to only host 1-2 meals each month. Another friend told me “I am not hosting more than one family at a time.” These parents want to preserve patterns of slowing down, of carving out time for our own families, and of choosing quality connections over quantity that have been created over the last 16 months.
Even children have to do this work. At school, for example, after spring break we saw an increase in the number of students sharing information about their gender identity or their sexual orientation. While we were proud of students for feeling comfortable to share these parts of themselves with us, we were also wondering what made several students share their news in such a short amount of time. And then we realized - for one year they were at home, living life as their authentic selves, and they were simply unwilling to to not acknowledge their whole selves. For these students, living their lives openly and wholly, and being unashamed of their identity, is a way to bring their authentic selves into our new world.
As the summer begins and LA County opens up, I offer a challenge to each of us: who have you been in the last 16 months? Who have your children been in the last 16 months? Which parts are you happy to discard? And which parts of your identity, your day to day routine, your lifestyle, your family dynamic, do you want to bring with you? Before we fall into the old habits of hectic shabbat hosting and heels and living a closeted life, I hope we can each find space to make intentional choices so we can take the selves we were in the beforetimes, and the selves we were during the safer at home times, to bring our best and most authentic selves forward. As for me? You can find me at my dinner table each night.
