Navigating the "Next Normal"
How many times have you heard the phrases "back to normal" or "the new normal" over the past three months?
I've heard them more times than I can count.
We say we want to go back to "normal." We want to go back to the way some things were before the quarantine started - before the fear and the face masks and the gloves and the grieving.
We've been tethered to the past and holding on tightly to the way things were, bracing for what's coming and anticipating the worst.
We're resisting instead of accepting what is.
And resisting is exhausting.
We have to give ourselves time to grieve and permission to be sad, as I wrote about recently, AND we can choose how we respond to what's next.
What is "Normal" Anyway?
What if we stopped resisting what is and chose to accept it and move forward from where we are, even if we don't know exactly where we're going?
One of my favorite speakers, Steven Furtick, said something in a recent sermon that struck me:
We say we want to go back to normal, but is that really true?
It was "normal" to trade dollars for hours worked or hours present vs. work completed.
It was "normal" to spend more time working than with our loved ones.
It was "normal" to commute two or more hours a day.
It was "normal" to be sedentary and not move our bodies.
It was "normal" to not know or reach out to our neighbors.
It was "normal" to treat employees as an expendable "role" rather than a human "soul."
Given the recent turn of events in our nation, it was "normal" to respond to injustice with guilt and then do nothing to change our heart posture or behaviors.
When and why did we decide that all of that was normal?
Normal is just what we know, and it's hard to let go of what we've known and been holding onto for so long.
The loss of our experience of "normal" is what has made this season so challenging.
With loss comes grief, and grieving is not a linear process. It looks different for everyone, and many of us have not given ourselves time or permission to grieve the loss of normal. (I wrote about that in my last post, which you can read here, if you'd like.)
What would happen if we took on a different perspective about the future?
What if instead of anticipating and expecting "the new normal," we chose to anticipate and prepare for "the next normal?"
Losing Another "Normal"
When the coronavirus hit the U.S., my speaking and training business was upended. At that point, 100% of my work (and income) came from in-person speaking engagements. They were all postponed or canceled indefinitely.
I mourned and grieved the loss of what I thought this first year as a business owner would look like.
And then I pivoted. I took all of my training and speaking online. Organizations and associations responded and sought me out, looking for support to build the resilience and morale of their employees and members. I quickly gained traction and started replacing my lost income.
I felt good. I felt hopeful.
At the start of May, just as I was starting to feel like I had adjusted to the new normal of a 100% virtual work environment, I was knocked down again - this time, literally.
I was on a run with my husband on May 3rd and was hit by a pick-up truck that was turning right on red from a stopped position. My husband turned around just in time to see me land on the asphalt, as I cried out in pain, feeling like I couldn't breathe.
I was rushed to the hospital and learned that the force of the impact fractured my T12 vertebrae, the last vertebrae in my ribcage.
As I sat in the trauma room alone because of COVID19 visitor restrictions, I let myself cry, as I mourned the loss of yet another normal - freedom of movement and freedom from pain.
I've gone through the grief cycle all over again. I was knocked down before I'd fully stood up from the first blow back in March.
Like many of you, I'm tired - mentally, emotionally, physically. I've cried many tears and been in intense, breathtaking pain. But I'm also trying to make meaning of all of this, so I can navigate through it more effectively. I still have hope.
Being in a back brace on a daily basis and not being able to bend, twist, lift or even dress myself is NOT my "new normal." I don't know how long healing will take, but I do know this:
This is just my NEXT normal.
And so is whatever you are going through right now in this time of transition and change.
"This" isn't forever.
It's just what's next.
Navigating What's Next
I wish I knew the timeline for what's to come, not just in my life but also in our workplaces, in our country and in our world. It's hard not knowing. It's unsettling and paralyzing to feel like we currently control so little.
But here's what we CAN control, and here's how we can help shape the next normal:
We can control our attitude. We can choose to be hopeful or hopeless. We can choose gratitude or grumbling. We can be encouraging and expectant or we can brace for the worst.
We have a choice.
What attitude are you choosing?
We can also control how we respond. We can choose action or inaction. We can choose to be a light in the darkness or to let darkness spread in our own mind and in the lives of the people around us by doing nothing.
Each morning when you wake up, ask yourself this question and act on it:
How can I be a contribution today?
What can you do to make a difference? How can you use your voice for good? How can you use your platform and influence to bring about change?
How can you make someone else's day better through a word of affirmation, encouragement, or kindness? What can you do to show you care?
What is one thing you can do today to offer grace and gratitude?
It'll probably take longer than we think to experience peace, stability and a feeling of normalcy again.
While we're in this season of waiting, let's commit to doing what we can to shape a future that is marked by empathy, compassion for others and ourselves, unity, solidarity, and a celebration of our shared humanity as we navigate the "next normal" together.
