cartoon by Elisabeth McNair
New year's eve usually feels quite significant to me. I like the symbolism of a page turning over and a new chapter beginning. A fresh start with new possibilities ahead. I like the boom of fireworks and the fizzle of sparklers, lighting the darkness and smoking out any lurking demons from the past year. But 2020...nothing about this year was normal. And so it was for new year's eve.
For about the last five years Peter and I have made a tradition of heading into the National Gallery of Victoria to see the latest big exhibition. We felt so lucky, as the gallery has been closed for most of the year due to COVID. Thankfully our regular traditional could be part of our end of year send off. We wandered through the rooms on each floor, exploring Triennial 2020. It was filled with glorious, fun, thought provoking, immersive, imaginative and emotional works. We sat, engrossed by large scale video installations, and I actually cried a little while watching the all encompassing light show in the salon room. This is why I love art and have missed these types of experiences so much during 2020. I've realised that this is my kind of mindfulness. I'm no good at meditation or sitting still trying to calm my brain. Art and theatre are what allow me to live totally in the moment. Focussed. Feeling. Being both within myself and somehow outside myself at the same time. It felt like such a rare treat and utter reward for getting through this year, to step through the doors of the gallery again.
After three hours we jumped on a tram and headed home. Usually this is when new years revellers would be heading into the city for the fireworks and live concerts. But large gatherings were cancelled and it would be a more subdued night. We arrived home a little after 5pm. Luckily our favourite radio program had begun and we'd be spending the next two hours with Ruari Currin on PBS fm. His show Fang It! has been something that got us through 2020. His funny, breakneck banter mixed with rock and roll has kept a smile on our faces for much of lockdown. Ruari said what a tough one 2020 had been for him, dealing with the breakdown of his relationship and then having to move when his lease wasn't renewed. It was a reminder that regular life stuff continued during an international pandemic. He said the show and his listeners helped him through a very tough year. Listening to his show has helped recalibrate my mood so many times over the years, turning a really shit day at work into a distant memory by the time I've driven home. If I ever see him in a pub, I owe him a beer as a token of gratitude.
Peter and I decided that we'd end the year with familiar comforts, making home made pizza, listening to vinyl records and then watching one of our favourite movies - Pride. I think we watch it about every six months. It's become like visiting old friends, and we laugh and cry every single time. It's a great reminder about the importance of community, being true to yourself and standing up for your rights (and those of others). Collectivism and intersectionality, what's not to love! The movie finished and we still had a bit of time before midnight.
In previous years we've been able to see the sparkle of the city fireworks from our place, but they had been cancelled. Our suburb is usually rife with illegal fireworks and the loud familiar booms began. We ran outside into our laneway but couldn't tell which direction they were coming from. No lightshow, just the reverberating echo of explosions bouncing off the surrounding buildings. We went back inside to look out our tiny second story window in the hope of some glittering night sky. But nothing. In the confusion I'd forgotten to wish Peter a happy new year and give him a kiss. 2021 had just begun and I already felt let down and discombobulated!
It's taken me a couple of days to think through the new year. In my heart I knew there wasn't to be the clean slate I'd wanted. We were all so happy to farewell a year that had been so incredibly hard and sad. But in reality we knew that as we woke up on the 1st January we'd be faced with the same hardship of the last 12 months. The story continued into the new chapter. Everyone I speak to or follow online has commented just how bloody exhausted they are. Our tanks are empty. Living through a global pandemic has left everyone physically, emotionally and mentally drained. And although there's potentially and end in sight with various vaccinations being rolled out, we are faced with months ahead of vigilance, masks, sanitising, tuning into the news for the latest updates on small local outbreaks and daily tallies.
I feel wiped out. Lethargic. Bone tired. But I'm not alone. I feel lucky that over the christmas break we were able to see family and friends. I was able to hug people I loved. I feel grateful for the things that have nourished my brain and wellbeing. For the dear friendships I have and a rather excellent husband to spend lockdown life with. Things have been difficult, but having tiny aspects of normality seem like rare treats. Visiting our favourite local cafe. Going to the movies. Seeing friends. Visiting the gallery. Buying records. Gardening.
I need a holiday but feel content to live a smaller life close to home for the time being. I just wish I had a little more energy and sparkle. I read Neil Gaiman's end of year blog post. He mentioned something which I will try to focus on - "sometimes, it's only when it gets really dark that we can see the stars". Maybe this is the mantra for 2021. As hard as life gets, by contrast it's the darkness that makes the highlights truly sparkle. As I figure out how to navigate 2021 with no energy, I'll remember to seek out the stars in the darkness. Thanks Neil.
photo by Neil Gaiman
Comments