2020...an exercise in patience, fortitude, and reality.

2020…an exercise in patience, fortitude, and reality. Indeed.

I know this statement resonates with many of us. When we walk our path on life’s journey (assuming you look at life this way) of course we know nothing is perfect and there are no guarantee’s. These adages are so often used and yet have not reverberated through our essences more strongly for so many than they do this year. Covid-19 has changed…everything. The way we relate to each other, the platforms upon which education takes place, commerce, production, business and, of course, the arts and the presentation of artistic endeavors. Schools, businesses, museums, restaurants, factories have closed. Some have reopened under severely compromised or retooled functionalities, some are still on hold, some permanently shuttered their doors. Even simple travel has become a challenge at best and a non-option at worst. My home in the Northeast Kingdom of Vermont is minutes from the Canadian border and the beautiful Eastern Townships of Quebec. One of my dearest friends is 40 minutes away near Sherbrooke. We can no longer cross the border to enjoy the beauty of the countryside there, bathe in the scrumptious delights of traditional cuisine and pastries and country bread loaves that I adore and worst of all I can’t go visit my dear brother Gerald. Seniors in college and high school saw the overt celebrations of their efforts cancelled or curtailed. Of course, there was still a celebration but not in the way so many had hoped for. I know many students at the Berklee College of Music where I teach were disappointed and many downright angry that the big concert that is always organized around commencement was cancelled. My daughter was invited to be a tutor for a new summer Bioengineering program at her school and of course that was cancelled. There are so many stories of disappointment.

2020 was also a personal challenge in another way for me. It was discovered that a very large cyst had developed in my jaw that was connected to an impacted wisdom tooth that was resorbing. In early February, I had a procedure to remove the disintegrating tooth and the cyst. The cyst was much larger than they had expected and was beginning to push other teeth around and was impinging on my sinus cavity. Fortunately, the cyst was successfully removed (in addition to the wisdom teeth) and after a biopsy determined to be benign but not without the potential to return. Unfortunately, given the nature of the procedure and the size of the extrication, there was complications to the healing process leaving me unable to play my instruments. I had a second procedure to repair the damage and finally was able to begin playing again in July. It is still a work in process and doesn’t feel the same but I can play again. We often hear stories of tragedy where people’s lives are dramatically changed. I’ve had three very close friends and a relative who lost their lives early because of cancer and one through early onset Alzheimer's disease over the past 5 years. But we never imagine our lives or our path’s will be re-routed. I found myself faced with the reality that I might not be able to play my instruments ever again. Playing has been an integral part of my life for just over 35 years now. I found myself flooded with a variety of emotions and unsure how to respond to any of them. Ironically, just over a month and a half into my new reality was yet another new reality as daily life in America and throughout the world became very different with the onset of Covid-19 and our need to quarantine. My healing process and inability to play became secondary to making sure my wife and daughter were safe and coping ok, learning how to teach online (which was no small undertaking!) and making sure my students were hanging in there with the new normal. I watched friends and colleagues lose their jobs, relocate and reevaluate their lives. But I also found a new routine of a daily walk or hike with my wife and our dog in a beautiful forest near our home. It gave us time to talk about life, about our future, about how our country and the world might deal with our “new normal”, the political and economic implications and potentiality, our own hopes and feelings. My wife is a balanced and practical (not to mention supportive and loving) woman and I learn so much from her. Her perspectives and feelings were always refreshing and insightful and our walks/talks gave us both something to look forward to each day. It expanded and nurtured our personal connection allowing us to talk about things we often didn’t have time to share given the chaos of daily life and limited time. If only each day was 48 hours and each week an 8 day week. In spite of the chaos and uncertainty all around us, the time afforded us by being home created an opportunity.

Summer is now waning quickly. We watch schools getting ready to reopen and fall semesters begin again. But not without strife, conflict, fear, disappointments and ultimately a desire for things to go back to “normal”. But what is normal now? What is to become of all the uncertainty? Here in America, we have become more divided and polarized than ever. Instead of banding together for a common good, our president taunts, threatens and encourages this polarization. Our government is no longer working for the people of our country in spite of what the politicians preach. We have become so big, bloated, corporate and blinded by bureaucracy that fixing the problems has become nearly insurmountable. Accountability is open for debate, like “alternative facts.” Sigh… Curiosity has become relegated to posts on facebook, instagram and twitter. Of course I’m generalizing a bit. There are many and always will be those who are curious, driven and looking forward to their next walk in the woods or conversation with their neighbor or loved one. We have four months left in this year 2020. I’m eager to see how it plays out but at the same time find myself enjoying each day as they come. I spent part of the day yesterday at a museum that was the former home and school of Alexander Twilight who was an African American educator, politician and minister. Come to find out he was the first African American to graduate and received a degree from an American university (Middlebury College) and the first to be elected to public office. His home and school that he founded is located in Brownington, VT in the same county as my VT home. I was recently nominated as a trustee and board member at this amazing place and it was wonderful to meet some new friends and colleagues on the board there. It’s nice to meet people with a common goal and sensibility yet coming from vastly different backgrounds. Life is rich.

How do you get through each day? How has our “new normal” changed your perspective? Have you been able to find a new direction, focus or perspective? I’d love to know. Stay well and stay safe and stay inspired. There is beauty all around us if we just look and listen.

warmly,

daniel ian smith