I ain’t going back.
It’s a refrain uttered all too often.
We’re trained to keep our eyes forward, to focus solely on progress. Returning is a waste of time and effort.
Time only moves in one direction. And so do we, as we grow and age.
It seems pointless to fight that inertia. It seems futile to head back to a place our momentum is carrying us away from.
Yet, in some cases, it could be exactly what’s needed.
At first, there was despair.
As a deadly virus rampaged across continents and the world shut down, we were filled with dread. We feared the virus and its ghastly effects. But we also seemed leery of the interruptions to life as we knew it.
What was work going to look like without an office to go to? What would school look like without the classrooms? What would social interactions be like when we were reduced to squares on a computer screen?
It was all so abrupt. So new, strange, and unwelcome.
But as we settled into our newly remote world, something strange happened. Many of us started to like it.
Our pause was morphing into a full reset. And now, our predicament had turned on its head.
Instead of yearning for the recently departed past, many of us sought to kill it with fire. Many used the pandemic pause to reinvent themselves and to cast off old patterns.
This manifested itself in all kinds of ways.
People quit their jobs in favor of more flexible roles or entrepreneurship. The hospitality industry reeled as more people enjoyed dinner and a movie within the comfort of their own homes. High fashion found itself supplanted by loungewear. And a surge in online shopping tested the limits of both the supply chain and the monetary system.
These changes have been dizzying. And yet, many of us have been more invigorated than nauseated by them.
For these shifts optimize our lives. They remove the inconvenience and unpleasantness, leaving us with a more satisfying existence.
In short, they represent a pipe dream. But with that smoke comes mirrors.
In those early days of the COVID pandemic, my experience wasn’t all that different from everyone else’s.
Namely, I spent most of my time at home.
I handled tasks for my job from a laptop computer on my dining room table. I prepared meals in my kitchen. I read, wrote, and occasionally watched television.
I only left my home for exercise — as I went for an outdoor run or walk each day. Even then, I kept to myself.
After about a month, I’d gotten used to the remote lifestyle. But as others were leaning into it, I was seeking its expiration date.
You see, by most measures, home confinement had suited me well. I was healthy. I was safe. I was still drawing a paycheck.
But home confinement hadn’t suited me. This was not the way I wanted to live in perpetuity.
I had rather enjoyed much of what I’d given up. I liked socializing with friends. I liked going to sports arenas and movie theaters. I even liked my daily commute to the office.
Plus, I knew there was a cost to my bubbled existence. While I sheltered in safety, others risked their wellbeing to provide me that luxury. Trash collectors, grocery store clerks, and utility technicians kept showing up to work in person to support my stay-at-home tendencies. And many of my favorite hospitality venues were on the brink of collapse, suffocating from a lack of the cash flow customers like me normally provided.
I was worn down by the sacrifices I had made in the name of public health. And I was appalled by the inequities such decisions exacerbated in my own community.
And so, I changed things up.
I decided to return to old patterns but in a new way. I decided to retool the engine.
I returned to working in the office. But I stayed a safe distance away from the few co-workers who joined me there.
I started ordering from restaurants again, making a habit of getting dinner elsewhere on Tuesdays. But I mostly relied on takeout and curbside pickup.
And I began to socialize with friends again. But I was far more intentional about the activities I’d take part in with them.
These might seem like small adaptations. Yet, they made a world of difference for me.
Embracing the familiar lifted a weight off my shoulders. Doing so in a new way reduced the risk that the familiar still posed.
Yes, in the darkness of those days, I seem to have stumbled upon something significant. I’d found a torch to carry forward.
These days, things are quite different.
The virus is still here, but there are tools to fight it. More of the familiar is emerging from the woodwork. And I’m back to gathering in large groups, attending live events, and traveling domestically.
Even so, I continue to retool the engine. I remain vigilant about which group activities or live events I attend. And I’m far more efficient when it comes to traveling.
Yes, I’ve gone through a reset of sorts. But instead of rewriting my story entirely, I’m iterating on the chapters that have already been written. I’m taking the best of my pre-pandemic existence and leaving the rest.
I believe this approach is sustainable, scalable, and resilient. It allows room for growth without incurring undue turbulence. And it doesn’t require us to pick sides.
We live in a polarized society.
The fault lines that divide us are too numerous to count. But many involve the subject of change.
At any inflection point, there are those who lean wholeheartedly into change and those who resist it tooth and nail. The ground between them cracks and splinters. And soon a chasm emerges.
Our pandemic-induced reset follows this pattern. Yes, many reinvented themselves during this time, swearing off old behaviors and activities. But others demanded the unequivocal return of those same behaviors and activities. The chasm between the two groups grew and tension built.
This outcome could have been avoided if we had sought the middle ground.
If more of us had committed to retooling the engine, perhaps the future of work wouldn’t be such a hot-button issue. Perhaps the hospitality industry wouldn’t be hanging by a thread. Perhaps travel would be more convenient.
Our choices, our impulses — they’ve made this mess. But there’s still time to clean things up.
We can still improve the patterns we once espoused — rather than making them as take it or leave it propositions. We can still commit to incremental improvements, instead of just disruptive change.
Such choices might not grab a ton of attention. But they could benefit us all.
Let’s at least take the time to consider them.