Planning for the post-pandemic

The pandemic continued on into the spring and summer and the new normal became more normal, tolerance helped by my usual solitary living and plenty of outdoors environment to move about in. By fall, and with the expectancy of the vaccine, planning for a return to the world of the prior year ramped up.

Early dreams and schemes were awkward, particularly when I was expecting to be saddled with Woodie for at least two or three more years at least. My plans were confined to taking two to three night trips like I had been doing. Then, I also flirted with the idea of renting an apartment in Staunton as a getaway where Woodie could implausibly accompany me. It didn’t take long to envision him freaking out when leaving him there alone or him barking at night. After his terminal diagnosis in September, I still questioned those plans. Why do I always think traveling or moving is the answer? If I can find contentment where I am, I’ve got it made.

Resuming life at Reynolda has been a good thing. Even as the supposed Winter Wave is coming in, things are seeming more normal than have been in a long time. So, I’m thinking that traveling or moving may be an attractive daydream, but finding contentment where I am may be a more achievable outcome even if it is more mundane. My involvement at the Reynolda House brings me fulfillment. Riding my bike, playing guitar, reading for myself and in conjunction with a book club, entertains me. Walking and daydreaming, listening to music or Bloomberg makes me feel good. And now writing seems to be revealing itself as a therapeutic path. An article on Barry Ritholtz’s website resonated with me where he says “...imagine yourself looking backwards from the future to today: What will you be happy then that you are doing now?”

And can I get over hoping for--and banking on--longevity as a “save for a rainy day” strategy and get busy in looking for joy on a day to day basis? This, even if it means spending and transferring my savings and doing things because I enjoy them rather than because it might make me live longer. I had earlier read articles here and here making a pretty sensible case for living one’s legacy rather than leaving it. When the vaccine makes travel less risky and Woodie’s demise frees me to take a trip on a lark for bike adventures. A year of apartment rent in Staunton can fund plenty of stays in hotels and inns and restaurant meals.

Having waited so long (a lifetime) for this scenario, I have a small window of opportunity to make it happen. It’s now or never.

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