Holiday Greetings
Spotify sent me a ‘Who soundtracked your 2020’ email; and, thinking it might give a little insight into my emotional state, I clicked the link… only to be met with a list of songs that made me feel unseen. Does no one know me at all? There were artists I’d never heard of and songs I actually hated. It took a few beats for me to remember that I’d given my fourteen year old son my Spotify password and the world started to make sense again.
Sort of.
Has 2020 left you feeling invisible? The heaviness of this year has been a lot to bear, and I’ve sadly seen it bring out the worst in some people. I’ve also seen the way it has called others to rise up and find their own potential. As I’ve navigated this—the good and the bad—I’ve been able to examine my own responses and redirect my path towards the positive. While it’s easy to wallow in the shadows, there’s small victories to be celebrated when you push through the fog and focus on the other side.
On Monday afternoon, I sat (distanced) [funny how we have to say that now] with two of my day-job co-workers, a cell phone on the table tuned in to CBC Live as we listened to our premiere announce another lock down. I couldn’t help but think of those faded photographs of families huddled around their 1940s radios, holding their breath as news of the war crackled through their living rooms. A plethora of emotions rolled through me: anger, sadness, grief, annoyance.
But also a blooming sense of opportunity.
It’s easy to focus on what we are losing, but what if we focus on what we’re gaining.
Time.
We live in a society that celebrates busyness; that teaches us success is reached through exhaustion; that good things come to those who bust their bottoms. I think the greatest gift of 2020 has been the way it has forced all of us to slow down and rethink the definition of hard work.
We stay home more and we’re learning to rest. Is it uncomfortable? Sure, for some of us. Is it necessary? Yes, the powers that be have deemed it so. Is it good for us? In so many ways, yes, I think it is.
By giving ourselves permission to rest, we make room for that which feeds our souls. Without the daily pressure of the office or the commute (or pants!), perhaps we open ourselves up to creative endeavours we’ve rejected for years. Or, perhaps, we just give ourselves permission to lounge with that book we always meant to read, or binge a whole season of Suits. Sure, there will be Zoom meetings and day-job work that has to be completed from home, but the pressure is different and the window of new time is like beautiful stained glass you finally get to study.
This holiday season is unlike any other and many of us won’t be venturing outside our homes. Not being with family and friends is worthy of our grief. And it’s okay to allow yourself to be sad. But remember, this too shall pass, and one day we’ll sit around the table together again and reminisce about the year we all stayed home.
My hope for you this Christmas is that your home is a safe place; that you can push past disappointment to cling to the joy of the season even though everything is weird; that the view beyond your window is one of a winter wonderland that dusts you with a sense of whimsy and peace; and that you give yourself permission to rest, relax, breathe, and maybe open the door to a creative project you’ve kept on hold for far too long.
And if you find yourself feeling a little invisible, I’m inviting you to share your story with us. Here at Blank Spaces we want 2021 to be a year of being seen. If you’re a past contributor, we’d love to interview you and share your journey with our readers. [Learn more here]
Merry Christmas, friends. I see you. You are not invisible. Your commitment to this community does not go unnoticed.
With love,
Alanna Rusnak, editor in cheif
