The Pandemic Pie Revival Society
Puppy Juno Visits Lake Louise
As the years of this pandemic tick forward, I have noticed a fundamental shift in who I am and what I desire. It could be argued that this would be a byproduct of time as a whole, but perhaps these strange times have forced my hand in an accelerated way, and in directions I would not have chosen.
Before the pandemic, I worked as a flight attendant for a major airline, to supplement a career as a musician. I was always on the move, working, traveling, or touring, and I embodied the work hard play hard ethos (pun intended). I had also just begun learning to fly planes, and my trajectory as a student pilot involved a fast pace, pressure cooker learning environment.
Being laid off as a flight attendant, and graduating from pilot academy into the largest recession in aviation history, was actually not the first time the rug had been pulled from under my life. What was different this time however, was the abyss of time which stretched ahead and the inability to exercise any freedom of movement within vast physical spaces.
I had spent a decade exercising my ability to go almost anywhere, not just traveling, but to a music venue, to a restaurant, to the grocery store without paranoia… and all of a sudden the external world circled progressively smaller. For a while, honestly this was bliss. I could finally be in the same location two Mondays in a row, and wake up in the same bed every night. I was able to consider getting a pet, practicing an instrument consistently, or cooking a meal at home.
But eventually, along with most people, a level of monotony at being physically restricted settled in. Sure, the “privilege” of not traveling was a bummer, but actually where restrictions really burned was in the inability to see loved ones, and questioning if you might accidentally bring covid along with you.
So where am I going with this really?
First, I want to acknowledge our realities have morphed through a fundamental change, aptly summed up by a comic strip in which a person tells their friend: “The irony is, now I don’t really want to go anywhere”.
But more importantly I want to highlight that through the pandemic many people have been able to focus inwards, and have become tenders of their own curated little bi(h)omes. Curators of new small businesses, or home gardeners. This internal focus is something I have always loved about creating art. We are able to create terms that are our own, boundaries of encapsulation, self-directed intent, and as many or as few terms as desired. This process that can be tailored from within, and can positively direct energy, providing both meaning and control.
I wanted to share a few things I tended in my small world during covid, which helped temper the mental darkness of a pre-covid life lost, and broke up the monotony of repeat covid days.
One is the immediacy of cultivating joy in the moments you are existing in. My pup Juno reminds me of this every day. He demands play, lives to give kisses and cuddles, watches intently out the window muttering mini barks under his breath. Juno lives in full commitment to each moment, and each feeling is a full expression of himself. It is genuinely beautiful to watch.
Second has been the joy of working towards a live show of the songs from my upcoming record. This backwards re-creation of recorded material, often on new instruments, is painstaking. But like watching a building being built, layer by layer I am overjoyed by its formation. I am in awe of the phenomenal creative support I receive from my music team. We are working towards goals, and although actual performance restrictions change constantly, there is joy in creativity itself and collaborating creatively with others.
A final ritual that really brought joy to my pandemic life was the institution of dessert nights with my bubble of pilot friends. Dubbed the “Pie Revival Society”, we would rotate a chef each week who would arrive with a themed edible creation. Our light competition of manifesting delectable delights demarcated each week with meaningful conversations, provided perspective on our isolation neuroses, and it gave me the gift of a tiny community. This vagabond family drove away the blues of not seeing family on holidays, and was a reminder that there is always something new to discover in the people and places where you already exist.
I am curious, what joys have cultivated within your covid orbit? Tell me about the small things that brighten your world and radiate through the dimness of these strange days.
