All of a sudden, summer seems to be drawing to a close. Schools are reopening (somewhat), the days are not quite so reliably hot, and it doesn’t stay bright until well after dinner time anymore. Honestly, I couldn’t tell you where the past few months have gone. A combination of continuing pandemic isolation, still unfinished moving stresses, and just the general existential dread of life in these times makes it feel like Spring was both yesterday and a lifetime ago.
But in the hopes of achieving some semblance of normalcy, no matter how shaky, I’ve decided to take up some writing and sharing again. So here we go:
Around the Web
For me, a large part of the pain in the early phase of isolation was the complete breakdown of a social life. After a year in a new city, I was just starting to build a circle of friends and regular activities, and all that came grinding to a halt (as well as the regular interactions with coworkers). But oddly, six months in, not only do I find myself getting comfortable with solitude, but wanting even more of it. Part of it may be due going in to a library at least once a week, getting in to the city, and absorbing some of its populous nervous energy. Part of it might be the desire to get away from roommates, who while lovely and wonderful, have been entirely too close for too long the last few months. Thankfully, we just moved to a much larger place with enough space for each of us to ignore all the others. Perhaps what this highlights more than anything is the need for balance. Too much of anything can be a bad thing.
The challenges of the last few months have been compounded by the fact that most of my usual coping mechanisms of museums, bookshops, dinner and drinks outside, have been gone. Though they are gradually coming back (for now), I’m trying to make something of being forced to pay attention to my inner self and mental state and rely on mostly that for some sense of relief. Schopenhauer, I think, was on to something when he realized that happiness is not just the absence of suffering, but actually paying attention to that absence and realizing that things could be much worse.
Continuing the theme of isolation and paying attention, I have been noticing that social media continues to get increasingly intolerable. I am not (perhaps thankfully) on the TikTok bandwagon, but Instagram seems determined to push people I don’t follow, rather than showing me posts from people I do, and YouTube’s intrusive advertising has gotten to the point that it’s very off-putting to watch anything at all. More than ever, it is clear that our attention has been harvested and weaponized against us, and perhaps the only way to win this game is not to play.
For the first time in an embarrassingly long time I picked up a book again: Intimations by Zadie Smith (thanks to a recommendation from Brain Pickings). This is short book of essays, all of which are very relatable, and very relevant to our current times. Smith explores everything from mindsets for coping with isolation and disruption, to how viruses can be both biological and social, and what that means for the notion of herd immunity. This is the first time I’ve read anything by Smith and it makes me want to go read everything else she’s written.
Chef’s Table is perhaps the antithesis of everything that social media represents. It’s deep, fulfilling, quiet, but also arousing, invigorating and inspiring. The episodes with Jeong Kwan and Gaggan Anand are some of my favorite things to re-watch when I need a pick-me-up. So it’s no surprise that I am very excited for this new season and really looking forward to it.