Glass is sharp.
“It might have needed to shatter, but it doesn’t stop glass being sharp.” I texted a friend this evening. Even I was a little surprised by my own poetic words. The phrase has continued to come to mind. In many ways, I feel an all-around shattering in everyones life .. From health, family, faith, career, home, marriage, to friendship…. the glass is flying all around me. Lots of shattering that was only held back from the suppression of needs, fake smiles, untouched grief, and unspoken beliefs. Even if it needed to shatter… glass is flying and its sharp.
The pandemic felt like a catalyst. Strains that were festering in the corners of relationships, doubts tucked and comforted by Sunday morning worship, and tension within the office were routine - it all seemed to erupt under the constraints of quarantine. It felt like a pressure cooker, only the pandemic wasn’t the pressure, it was simple the cap flying off. I think a lot of people have neglected the history behind a shattering in their life. They blame the long days at home, the lack of freedom, or the long work hours the pandemic demanded. However, I tend to challenge that. I believe that was the case for some. However in many, it feels more like the pandemic accelerated infections… placed parts of life under a microscope… exposed the wounds and pains that had been tossed under the bed - who had the time?? Until we had ALL the time in the world.
Without the comfort of physical connection and presence, we relied on our phones to hear the sound of loved ones. Therapy became through laptops. The same laptops that became work. The same laptops that became entertainment. Life became reliant on our little macbooks, Toshibas, and chromebooks. TikTok had been around for awhile, but the need for humor, connection, and creativity - the app took off. We connected.
We said things like “Do you think we will ever have concerts again?” “I’m not sure I’ll ever be relaxed in crowds again.” “I wonder if international travel is changed forever? Will it ever be the way it was?” I really remember wondering if I would ever sit and work in a coffee shop among strangers again, because at the time I was just thrilled for my first curbside pick up of a single oat milk latte from a local cafe… I scrolled through photos of exciting travels through countries I now couldn’t visit even if I did have the money, the ticket, or desire.
And here we are - in 2023. In most ways life has returned to life before 2020. The highways are bumper to bumper again around 7:30a.m and 5:30p.m. We fight for the plug-accessible tables at local coffee shops. We are greeted with smiles at parties - GRINS… not just the crinkles of eyes just above a mask. Now, we don’t wait anxiously for covid results before heading to the airport. The find our spot in the carpool line again. We are planning exotic vacations. We hug. We have conversations with strangers, not counting the distance between us and them.
But that seems to be the surface. Just below, shards of glass lay like minefields. Community trauma un-named. Therapist wait-lists growing. Medications for depression, anxiety, and adhd becoming small talk. Its like we were so excited to get back to “life before”, we just all stuffed down what just happened… But just like a family whose experienced group trauma, the grief unravels, seeping though the cracks unkept. Life has always been hard. Friendships often challenging. Jobs not fitting. Marriages ending. I would never suggest these are symptoms of the pandemic alone.
I guess it just feels like a family trauma we are all tired of that one member bringing up. Like once you say “I don’t think I’m over it”… some nod, but the majority just want to forget what happened. They don’t want to remember. They don’t want to talk about it. They don’t want to admit the ramifications in their soul, life, relationships, and body. Life has always been hard, and at 25, I know I’ve been questioning if this is just “Growing up” and pre-covid was simply an illusion-filled adolescent perspective. In many ways, I think it was, but my friends past their 20’s have admitted to feeling a heaviness… a cloud overhead. That they’ve never felt like so much shattering around them. Each person in their life bearing the weight of a shattering. Its sharp.