” It’s always darkest before the dawn”
Everyone on social media and at work is encouraging each other to “Reflect on 2021”. I don’t know if I’m ready for that yet. I don’t know if I processed 2021 (or even 2020) enough to reflect on it without breaking down and panic cry over a tub of ice cream quite yet.
In 2021 we thought the pandemic was over. And the vaccine did help. For a while. We gleefully declared we’re “Open for summer”, and then “Open for good” and snarkily making fun of people “needing to get over it” on Twitter. Turned out the real pandemic is the ones with humanity no longer trusting each other, no longer believing in the greater good, and no longer trusting evidence or science.
In 2021 we faced “Stop Asian Hate” straight on. And while Canadians and my friends gleefully declare racism is not here, I wish I could have an honest, open conversation about the microaggression, the subtle discrimination I still feel at the grocery store, at work, or even within different Asian communities and queer communities. You see, when you are a successful director of a tech company, people often think you should shut up and not bite the hands that feed you, or your friends will tell you “Can’t change the fact that I’m white and privileged”.
In 2021, I faced the loss of “what could have been”. We decided not to adopt because “Jason, you want to move to Ontario. We can’t adopt in Alberta”, so I felt like it was my fault we had to make that change. And of course, now I am not moving anymore, so I’ve lost that too. As I continue to chat with my new boss (and his firm belief the future is remote/hybrid 100%), I couldn’t help but feel like there are these hundreds of doors that are open before us, and my feet are grounded solidly in a house, a mortgage, and three feet of the Calgary snow (and subtle microaggressions – refer to point 2).
In 2021, I had 2 job changes. While I am incredibly grateful for the opportunities and the success they bring, learning new things and going through 2 probations in a year is incredibly taxing (on an already anxious mind), on the backdrop of a pandemic. Companies that turned me down this time last year are reaching out again, trying to recruit me (because the Great Resignation happens, and because I now have the title that matches their AI searches). It’s cynical, I know. But I do think I have a lot to offer in my professional life and to the people that I work with, and the 2021 workplace is just a strange landscape to be in.
In 2021, most importantly, in my comfy “work from home” desk, I feel isolated. I feel pretty much alone and taken for granted in my little happy corner of the world. I feel the burden of the world, at times as ridiculously light as air, at times as ridiculously heavy as a chest pain, and most of the time just this unexplainable anxiety about things starting to crumble and my perfect little suburban life is corroding who I am as a person.
So yeah, I am not sure I am ready to reflect on 2021 quite yet. I am not sure I’m in the place where I can even sit and reflect on things. Maybe the dawn will come. Maybe after the Winter Soltice, as the days get longer and the Chinook bring some warmth and I can be outside in the sun, all these darkness will slowly fade into my breath of the winter air during meditation.
Meanwhile, I’ll just sit and breathe.
(I didn’t want this to be all gloom and doom so I put it as Part 1 – to offer some hope. Let’s see if there is part 2. Maybe in the next 2 weeks)
Pace Fine Arts 