Christina's blog

As light begins to glow at the end of the long, dark tunnel known as the worst pandemic in our lifetimes, I thought I would write about something that has turned out to be a bit…controversial.

While the pandemic decimated lives (literally) and businesses, turning our lives into deep wells of isolation, despair and terror, I wondered how we would overcome this pandemic. What would we do that would give us even the smallest chance of creating a new post-pandemic life?

It seems so long ago, those days when a friend would ring and ask if I had time to meet up for a coffee or a quick lunch. During the low points of this past winter, I vowed I would never be too busy to drop everything and run off to meet someone. I used to love being with those I love best, catching up, sharing our plans and dreams, hopes and worries. Of course, reality hits hard and I am often confronted with conflict: the joy of actually being with someone versus the effort to retool my business to these times.

I don’t know about you but I am exhausted by grief. This has been the longest year of my life and I know I am not alone. It has been hard for all of us, in fact, unless you’re sociopathic.

In this past year, we have lost so many people to Covid, gun violence, murder in the streets, mass shootings. It feels unreal and unceasing. And we grieve yet again, for the loss of more innocent souls. I thought I had no tears left, but the well is as endless as this past year.

I was watching Bill Maher recently and he said what I have been thinking for some time now. That doesn’t happen often, so when it does, it gets my attention. Maybe it’s the months of reflection during this pandemic; maybe it’s the confinement to home; maybe it’s…I don’t know what.

For so many of us, it’s just another weekend in the same place we’ve been for months, living and working day to day; looking for work, dealing with school, struggling or just approximating living. Saturday, Sunday? Who cares? It might just as well be Tuesday or Thursday.

But it is, in fact Sunday so let’s make pizza.

I think a lot during these days. I was just talking to my oldest and closest friend about these past months and how, for the most part, I have been doing ok. I have had moments of being low, but overall, I was managing the isolation; being cut off from those I love best (outside of my glorious husband for whom I am so grateful). But as January and February laid their grey cloaks on us and the cold days drag on and on, I find myself in a bit of a funk. I WANT my people back. I WANT my travel life back; I WANT people and the world to be well and healthy and thriving again.

2020 was filled with painful challenges, from losing loved ones to losing jobs to losing ourselves in the chaos that filled the year. But no matter how dark, I believe there’s always the chance to let the light in.

While filled with sadness for the loss of so much, I think we have so much to be grateful for as we move into the new year. I think we are missing the boat if we aren’t counting our blessings.

We are one month into 2021 and the times are still challenging. Sure, there’s hope and optimism as there is with every new year. And this year, that hope feels more important to us than ever.

January is behind us, after months of Zoom meetings, pushing off decisions and treading water day to day in the still with us pandemic, the cesspool of unemployment or the desperation of working until the breaking point. Some days we feel like we get nothing done and there’s so much to do. It would be so easy to just let go, but we can’t.

It’s been months and months of the virus and even if the news around the vaccine is good, it’s not like we’ll be partying shoulder to shoulder in our favorite pizza joint anytime soon.

I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted. The pandemic blues are finally getting to me. I’ve been relatively okay until now. I’m exhausted by so much: by the constant fear, the deep grief; the stress of business and work (or lack of work); family worries; mortgage and rent distress; hunger, illness and just an overall low buzz of anxiety about the state of the world and the future.

There are certain kitchen rhythms that I will always associate with these past months of the pandemic. Pot after pot of what we consider “comfort food”: