We Meet Again As Strangers
Shall we ever meet again?
And who will meet again?— T.S. Eliot
Fellow Humans! I’ve been thinking a lot over the past few weeks about relationships. Specifically, I’ve been thinking about relationships in a post-vaccination world and exploring my own anxieties and excitements about re-engaging with people I haven’t seen in over a year. Some of my anxieties are certainly related to regaining a sense of trust in the world. After being conditioned to stay physically distant from others, physical contact now spikes an anxiety response and I will gradually adjust toward a new baseline of comfort. But there are other anxieties and excitements that are less related to reintegration, and more related to the insights and reflections that are bound to come during such a long period of relative isolation (and for me, that means introspection.)
I wonder if many of you are having experiences similar to mine. Not making social plans has taken me off of a kind of social autopilot. I think many of us have our own versions, and I encourage you to think about what your social autopilot might look like. Mine, as a person who tends toward people-pleasing, looked a lot like saying yes to most of the things I was asked to do, both professionally and socially. A typical day might look something like this: arrive at work at 8 am and see clients until 6 pm, pick up some groceries for dinner on the way to the bus stop, ride home and throw food in the fridge, pack my keyboard into my car and drive to band practice, come home around 10, and finally catch up with my partner before having a snack and heading to bed. This sounds nightmarish to me as I write it now. Not only does the pace and hurry of this day seem physically arduous, the number of really intimate and intense interactions feels emotionally exhausting (providing therapy and playing music with other people both feel really personal in different ways). I have always known that I am a “social introvert.” I love spending time with other people — co-creating and collaborating — but this drains me, and I have to spend time alone to recharge. What I have come to realize during this period of interrupted social autopilot is just how much autopiloted social interactions drained me in a cumulative way. I am grappling with how to honor and integrate this knowledge moving back into the world. How do I respectfully say no to things that I would have previously said yes to without a second thought? How do I protect my energy and boundaries when I have typically put others’ needs ahead of my own? How might other people respond to what they see as significant changes in my availability when I have been slowly adjusting to this self-knowledge over the past year?
Some of my quarantine insights have felt affirming and empowering and, quite honestly, some are wildly uncomfortable. I am not interested in re-engaging in certain activities and relationships that, after quarantine-induced reflections, feel less nourishing and more depleting. This means that there will likely be difficult conversations about new priorities and a whole lot of upcoming practice in the art of saying “no.” There is a sense of guilt about shifting relational priorities. And there is also a celebration of reclaiming and changing patterns in a way that feels nourishing and self-aware.
Many wonderful pieces have been written recently about emerging from quarantine and embodying significant personal and psychological changes and shifts. I invite you to think about your own journey — which will look very different from my own, of course, but may be equally well-explored using some of the questions that I have been asking myself.
What have you learned about your needs related to social contact? Have you been surprised that some things were easier or harder than you might have expected?
How have your feelings about significant relationships in your life shifted, changed, or codified? I find that thinking about this on an energetic level really helps: do you recognize that you feel less drained when you have less contact with other people? Who do you turn to when you need to feel energized, loved, or supported? Are there people that you are anxious about seeing? Notice what comes up in your body when you consider these relationships — physical sensations can help guide us toward better understandings of our feelings. My stomach churns when I’m anxious, and feels more tingly when I’m excited, generally speaking. I’ve noticed these sorts of distinctions more and more as I’ve had more time to engage with my body during quarantine as well.
Are you feeling revved up to get out and socialize, or getting nauseous when thinking about a big social engagement? It can be helpful to have a few stock phrases to describe where you’re at for other people, recognizing that everyone has different levels of comfort and accounting for that. As I’m feeling more anxious, I plan on using lines like: “I’m still taking baby steps back into socializing right now — would it be okay if we hung out outside this weekend?” or “A group of three or four is my current max right now — I’m going to skip the birthday party this time.” And if you’re on the other end of the spectrum and really want as much social contact as possible, consider: “Hey, I’m super excited to see the family again and am planning a barbeque — I know everyone has a different level of comfort now, so I understand if you’re not ready for a bigger group yet.”
If it feels safe and comfortable, can you normalize talking with friends and family about your insights? Reciprocal sharing of our processes, growth, and internal work during this time is very personal, and the experience is also wildly universal. I look forward to learning more about the newest iterations of my nearest and dearest and am expecting us to meet in different ways and styles than before — and talking about our journey can bring us together in our collective humanity as we share more about our individual paths through what has been a truly exceptional and often traumatizing year.
I would love to hear about your own successes and challenges as you navigate the widening world of social accessibility. Until next time, friends, I send you all good vibes for connecting and disconnecting in the ways that feel true for you.
