As news of a vaccine trickle in, I find myself having a fantasy about life post Covid. In that place, I hold a dinner party for 50 everyday. I am constantly going out for a fun event. Theater. Cinema. Art Gala. Doesn’t matter, as long as there are lots of people there. How can I be hosting a dinner party at home and going out at the same time? Don’t worry about that, this is a fantasy….. remember?
I want to shake as many hands as I can. Forget that. I want to hug as many people as I can. I am in danger of hugging complete strangers on the street. I might become one of those people who stand on a street corner with a sign that reads: ”Free Hugs!”
If I have learned anything from 2020 it is that online is fine and cool but it’s not a substitute for the real thing. Thank you 2020 for opening my eyes and letting me see the value that other people bring to my life.
When the dinner party gets tired it will be turned into a dance party. So come prepared to shake your hips. This is my fantasy.
This will be the new new normal. A post new normal. An intensified version of the old normal.
I will attend hockey games not because I am interested in hockey but because I want to be in a crowd. I want a complete stranger to spill his beer on me and I will pelt him with some popcorn. And we will laugh and embrace with tears in our eyes. “Remember when this would have been a horror?” We will say to each other in a dazed hysteria. I will travel to China again. China is great to find crowds. Or maybe to Japan. I saw an image online of people in Tokyo squeezed onto a subway cart like turkey stuffing. I want to play a morsel of bread in that squished filling. I want to be bent out of shape. Air squeezed out of me. What is the busiest most crowded place on earth? I want to squish this solitude in a sea of humanity.
“No man is an Island.” who said that? Who cares? A human said that. We have been living in a bubble. My bubble seemed too close to the hypothetical question: “If you were to bring just three things with you on a remote island, what would it be?” Now, I can tell you for sure what I would bring with me. My husband. My family. The rest of humanity. With all the flaws. All our history. Wars. Injustice. Unwholesome interpretations of faith. I choose all of it.
My arms are open. I embrace all.
Next time I see somebody sneeze I shall applaud as if it was a salute. Gesundheit. To your health. Bless you. Let us sneeze together. Achoo. Let us experience the collective release.
In Vancouver, at one point, we has a moth infestation. That was followed with a dome of smoke from fires down south. It covered the city for weeks like a menacing beast that had swallowed the sun in midday. It swallowed the moon and stars at night as well. The whole city smelled like an ashtray. It felt biblical. Dreamlike. The trifecta of pandemic, mothoclypse and smoke became the eerie Las Vegas scene from the movie Blade Runner 2049. I loved the movie to bits but that doesn’t mean I was wishing to live in its grim reality. I kept expecting an ancient prophet to pop up threating pharaoh with god stricken vengeance.
I was tempted to paint my door with lamb blood. But then I kept my spirits up with the fantasy: Maybe the smoke will suffocate the corona virus and then all the moths from the Vancouver mothocalypse will flutter their wings in unison and dissipate the smoke.
The new normal, will become the old new normal. This is the new new normal. A place where each one of us is an alien who landed on planet earth. Each little thing is fascinating. A beer belly is as wonderful as a toothless smile. All is cool. We shall play tourist in our own town. Give each other permission to dance in the streets as the rain falls on our heads. We shall sing arias from our balcony windows off tune. Congratulate each other for being here with slaps on the back.
Look! You are here and I am here! Isn’t that a fantastic coincidence? We will say to each other.
What shall I do with the stacks of face masks? Turn them to earrings? Or bandages? Or socks?
Maybe we will gather in a forest to hold a face mask burning bonfire.
Remember how we used to wear a face mask to go out? We shall remark to each other. There will be no nostalgia involved.
So litter away and be your wonderful flawed self. Inside this new new you don’t need to make yourself presentable. Or right. Or good. Or woke. Or intelligent. Or nice.
You only need to showup.
Old you in the new new. Old you. New you. The new new shall not discriminate. As long as you are you.
A time to celebrate.
This world is a grand party.
Each person an honored guest.
Everywhere you look.
I shall dance in the middle.
To welcome a fresh new way of seeing.
Do you have a post covid life fantasy? If yes, please share it in the comment section below.