Torn from my mother's womb I come into this world, and into the newest of new normals, simply being alive, and yet had I not already been alive for nine months, suspended in a primordial soup, awaiting my entrance into existence? One new normal shifts into another, seamlessly as eyes blinking, lungs gasping and guts awakening, finally I am born.
Life itself, an onslaught of ever shifting new normals hoisted upon unsuspecting me leads me down a merry path of constantly adapting before really mastering any one stage, from wailing to talking, walking to running, growing so quickly my clothes seemed to shrink and my shoes are discarded with unworn soles. Phenomenal growth is the new normal with milestones looked for, boxes ticked and happy smiles all around for my every performance of normalcy.
School becomes the next new normal, and the longest marathon I will run in pursuit of an education while glued to a chair; my head filled with ideas that long to take flight but are caged by routines and rosters, teachers and tests, and slowly, the new normal became one of losing my innate passion for curious learning and explorative thinking as rote and repetition ruled the day.
Then that new normal turned on its head at university and asked me what I thought, why I was, what I lived for, what my hopes and fears were, and if I understood the words and thoughts of others before me. Could I step out of my ever shifting new normal and into theirs, and understand what they felt, and understand myself and the world better?
And so shocked was I by this change of affairs I struggled to find my voice and upon finding it I realised so few spoke my language. Tutorials meant to be arenas of debate became farcical when faced with so few who could or would embrace the newness of critical thinking, a new normal our education thus far had neglected to inculcate in us.
Feeling the weight of imposter's syndrome, and struggling to feel genuine pride in my achievements, I wondered if the next new normal in the working world led to a deepening authenticity or was more of the same; muddling along hoping I knew what I was doing, somehow doing well, but always wondering if there was more, feeling that something was missing, and whether my voice could hold its own in the world.
But before that voice found its pitch, before it learnt the note that carried its message best, it found love, and buried itself in making another happy. The new normal of married life descended upon me with accompanying clueless bliss as we generously overlooked our failings in finding our feet as newlyweds navigating a brave new world while looking through the rosiest of tinted lenses, and everything was simply beautiful.
Motherhood, that strangest of new normals that signals the end of your life as you once knew it, heralded by physical pain as your body rips apart to bring forth life... somehow this new normal is the most frightening and yet most rewarding, with every fresh day bringing a renewed newness to normalcy and an upheaval of preconceived ideas of life as you thought it should be, and what it actually is. You step outside of yourself, watching your children grow, and growing alongside them, letting go of expectations and embracing reality. It is a lifelong balancing act that you practice but never perfect.
The cord is cut, the bond deepens and yet with every passing year you grow closer to moving further apart. It is a drifting that begins imperceptibly and then accelerates and before you know it, you recognise that you don’t really recognise the other in the same way; the child is no longer a child. The only constant is change, your feelings are tossed to and fro and nobody can really understand you, except perhaps your own mother, whose new normal you once were. The eyes of your heart are opened and you finally truly understand her, and a new normal descends upon your relationship with her. You are finally wiser.
Your health begins to suffer, with age or stress or genes or whatever it is that robs you of energy, and soon with the passing years a deepening exhaustion becomes your new normal. On some days pain is your new normal for a time, as is a season without food, and forced extended rest. You endure this season as your newest of new normals but tell yourself the time will come when things will change, for the better. This too shall pass. As it must, with change being the only constant, and you live in hope, as you must, for without hope your soul will perish.
Then one day, the new normal you thought was a passing phase was actually the slow death of love that you didn’t recognise, and love leaves your life, ripping your heart out of your chest, and shattering everything you once held dear. The new normal that descends isn't hatred, but a growing indifference as you slowly mend your broken heart, piece by piece, forcing yourself to believe that beyond this new normal state of numbness lies a resurrection of all that is left, of yourself . You've been in denial, prayed for a miracle as you wept in grief, turned your life around, reinvented yourself, done everything you possibly could and love would not be revived, but you will endure and rise again. Grief battles anger, and your new normal is turbulent until you accept what is and peace falls. The newest of new normals then is an embracing of solitude and all the peace and beauty that it brings. It is good, because you want it to be good, because finally, in your heart of hearts, you know and believe that you are good and deserving of happiness.
And then suddenly, Covid-19 takes the world by storm and yet another new normal appears, forcing itself upon us, and yet it isn't entirely new to have new normals thrust upon us, they have been shifting beneath us from the very beginning. All of life has been an evolution of new normals in a sea of constant change. Each one rising from an ocean of uncertainty, pushing us forward on waves of progress. You must move on, you must keep going, whatever it is, stay afloat, make headway, no matter how small it might be. More new normals will come; the nest will empty, the heart will break again, the body will succumb to illness flares... up and down, and up and down, and all along this crazy rollercoaster ride you are alone, and the knowledge of your aloneness is not frightening, it is simply life.
You finally understand that only you can walk in your shoes and you must wear out the soles, and make the journey count and embrace each new normal with joy and gratitude. As long as new normals come your way you are alive. When I look at my life thus far in perspective, Covid-19 seems almost inconsequential. This new normal will simply be absorbed as part of my lived and personal history and replaced by newer normals in due course, with the final one being my own death and transition from life. In my story, my last new normal will be that I no longer exist. The ever shifting new normals demand that we learn to ride the shifts with them. I welcome them, I choose to evolve with them, and I shall bid them farewell when I go. Nothing lasts forever.
Pav (2nd August 2020)
