I'm approaching the eighth week of my self-quarantine, and I wish I could say I’ve done something truly worthwhile. I haven’t learned Mandarin. I haven’t written a novel. And no, I haven’t baked a single loaf of banana bread. (Am I even in quarantine?)
As I scroll through my social media feed, I'm bombarded with ways to keep busy: cook new dishes, organize my closet, alphabetize my bookshelf and finally moisturize my wooden cutting boards...I didn’t know about that last one either.
During this pandemic, we’re spoon-fed inspiration for how we can “productively” spend our days, but this messaging can be somewhat demanding. Sure, we have a lot more time on our hands now that we’re mostly restricted to the confines of our homes. But being “productive” is more difficult with our daily routines completely disrupted and our outlets for physical escape so limited. Defining “productivity” as “doing as much as possible” creates pressure to constantly optimize — to be a high-performing machine.
At the beginning of my quarantine, I pushed myself to integrate structure into my days. In between bouts of handwashing even the CDC would deem excessive, I attempted to eat breakfast almost every day (which I didn’t even do before this pandemic...sorry, Mom), exercise at least four days a week and meditate every night. I was committed to this routine for about a week-and-a-half.
As someone who likes to keep busy, having so much free time was overwhelming. With time, my anxiety worsened and I found my motivation quickly slipping. Doing schoolwork took hours longer than it normally would have, and applying for jobs was a frightening thought I chose to ignore. I felt like a failure. I thought, "I'm a second semester senior. What am I doing with my life? I need to be getting things done." It’s been challenging to focus on my "next move" when the future is so uncertain. And if I could barely maintain the three healthy habits I started, how was I also supposed to cultivate a useful hobby or pursue a valuable passion project?
Throughout my quarantine experience, I’ve struggled with feeling purposeless while I’m constantly inundated with advice for finding a purpose. But just because I haven’t perfected my home workout routine, honed a new skill or figured out the next phase of my life doesn’t mean I’m being lazy.
Although my social media feed has been awash with productivity posts, I've seen several accounts reinforcing a different message. This one caught my attention last week:
Our world has drastically changed, and we need to adapt. But we also can't be too hard on ourselves, which is something I often struggle with.
At the moment, I’m trying to work on self-care. No, I don’t mean slapping on a face mask and indulging in a pint of ice cream (which yes, I still do). I mean practicing self-compassion. For me, this is recognizing my accomplishments for the day, even if it’s only submitting my final paper and going for a run. It's acknowledging my anxieties, setting an intention for each day and allowing myself to take a break. It's filling my free time with the things that energize me like going for a walk, writing down my thoughts or calling up a friend for a few hours of laughs.
Amid the heaviness surrounding the coronavirus, I’ve recognized the importance of being kind to myself. There’s so much that’s out of my control, but I have complete autonomy over the way I respond to it all. So, maybe I’m not getting a lot done by one set of standards. But I’m doing what I can to get through the day. And I’m learning to be okay with that.
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