Cloister Commentary, Day 365: A Year in the COVID Life

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A few days over a year ago, my friend Ken Shimamoto messaged me, suggesting that I document here my days under the unfolding pandemic. Eight years ago, I’d done the same during my last year as a full-time public school teacher. That had worked out pretty well, but I wasn’t so sure about this undertaking: it was instantly clear to me that, while I never found teaching English repetitive, the limitations of a cloistered life might not make interesting reading. Nevertheless, on this day in 2020, I sallied forth with this commentary, hoping for the best.

I didn’t feel the need or ability to be a reporter on the world’s struggles. I was happy to comment when our life within these walls intersected with the endless turbulence outside of them, but mostly I just wanted to capture (for Nicole’s and my reflection later on, to possibly encourage others who might be frustrated, for your entertainment) how we got through days where we couldn’t go anywhere or see anyone safely. Because I’m a helpless music nut, I tried to offer the adventurous an interesting and inspiring full album stream on YouTube; likely, more than a few have been pulled for copyright reasons by now. I hope along the way readers found it wasn’t a warrantless pursuit.

Looking back, I’d not have dreamed I’d arrive on this day minus a father, a best friend, a canine companion, a brief feline addition to our entourage, and a little faith in my fellow citizens. None of those losses but the last was due to COVID-19; they just made keeping one foot in front of the other that much more difficult. Perhaps the urgency of staying disciplined helped us deal, I don’t really know. I just know LOSS was the defining word of the experience.

I was worried about contracting the virus. Instead, in 12 months, I enjoyed three electrocardiograms, two echocardiograms, two sleep studies, a colonoscopy, and a prostate biopsy. I gave blood twice until those processes resulted in medication that pretty much forbids that–I’ll never catch up to George Frissell’s 270+ pints.

Life certainly wasn’t all horrible. If I had to be trapped, it might as well be with my soul mate and ace companion. We live in a library, so feeding our heads and hearts would have been easy even without the Internet. We are both educators, and, though that task has been a major struggle, even that provided us some fuel–the summer school class I taught was essential to my recovery from a lightning-strike death. I talked to my mom almost every day, and saw her and my brother far more often than any year since I left home. And even if it was from a distance, I was buoyed up by citizens under attack refusing to lie down and fighting back. Their fights were seldom futile, either. We’ve got a long, long way to go, but the pandemic hasn’t broken us all the way down.

I read at least a hundred books and listened to hundreds of records, and hyped them in these commentaries. That was not to boast: they’ve always been integral to my intellectual and spiritual survival, plus? Once a teacher, always a teacher: modeling good reading habits is essential, especially now (the habit seems endangered). We also likely ate 100 curbside meals. I know, the discreet charm of the bourgeoisie and all, but local restaurants desperately needed the support, and the money pandemic life saved us demanded helpful reinvestment. Somehow, I avoided those extra COVID pounds.

Zoom? Thumbs up. I had a head start with it prior to the pandemic with guest speakers at Stephens, but I’m thankful it let me hear and see my family, friends, and flying saucer support team on a regular basis, and it’s a great birthday idea! I’m still mastering it as an educator, but the student teachers I’m supervising teach me a new trick every observation.

I wrote these from a position of privilege that kept me safer than most, gave me bubbles of serenity within which to write, and provided me the sustenance that insured me time. I wrote most of these with my right thumb, on my phone, in bed, under early morning lamps, during half-hours in my office before work, on the back porch, riding in cars (I regretfully edited one while driving), while eating, waiting in doctors’ offices–well, you get it. I transferred them all to a blog that maybe the local historical society can use (and that you can access–see below–to catch up, if you’re interested). Ultimately, I feel like the result was worth the effort. I know the pandemic is not over, but with our second vaccination scheduled Tuesday and today being not only our anniversary but a nice round annum, giving my thumb a rest is a decent idea.

Ken, thanks for the push (you push a lot, the right way). Nicole, thanks for the love and support and the hosting of this commentary via daily tags. And my little passel of readers, thanks for sampling this–I hope you were seldom bored. As I often told my students when we talked about adult life, it’s wrestling with routine and mastering monotony that are the secrets of endurance, and I sincerely hope we passed that test.

Streaming for Strivers: