CONSIDER: Ordinary
that state of being we're trying to get back to in the future
"Back to normal" has nothing to do with going backwards or “normal”.
And not just because "normal" for too many people has always lacked sufficient safety and ease of joy. And not just because there is no "back", only forward.
After a nearly full year of repeatedly encountering the expression, and never feeling like it captured what we are craving, I have determined that our nostalgia is not for normal, but rather, ordinary.
Ordinary is remembering your keys, phone, wallet (end of list).
Ordinary is missing two items needed to make a recipe you found during the work day and stopping by the grocery store on the way home for only those two ingredients (and running into a friend while you’re there and enjoying a leisurely 20 minute conversation that ends in a hug).
Ordinary is leaving the house to go to work/school.
Ordinary is stopping at three different places after work/school.
Ordinary is hugging your grandparents, parents, siblings, nieces, nephews, aunts, uncles, cousins, friends, co-workers, teachers, brand new friends, very old friends, grieving strangers, and more. (Handholding, too.)
Ordinary is catching a 7pm movie at the theater; attending a concert at SPAC on the lawn; visiting a NYC museum on a crowded Saturday afternoon; going to an author’s reading in a very small bookstore; meeting at the library to work on a group project; using that Groupon that’s about to expire for an artsy activity for four.
Ordinary is going to your favorite restaurant and choosing a table inside because its so hot/cold out. Then, lingering long after your entrées have been cleared, enjoying dessert, and coffees, and conversation.
Ordinary is attending a child’s birthday party complete with family, extended family, neighbors, friends, and schoolmates- full of closeness and chaos, a tantrum or two, some tears, laughter, song, and lots of cake. (And not a single car horn.)
Ordinary is deciding at the last minute to hop into a fitness class and finding your own spot in the crowded room, and feeling so happy you decided to make it.
Ordinary is watching your favorite team’s game on TV in a busy bar, with fellow fans in matching jerseys.
Ordinary is going to the hospital during visiting hours to see a loved one healing post surgery; to meet a newborn baby; to sit with a relative in hospice; to nervously sit in a waiting room.
Ordinary is sitting on your therapist’s couch for your appointment.
Ordinary is spending 2+ hours very aimlessly roaming around Target/Home Goods/World Market/Barnes & Noble.
Ordinary is taking your computer/book/journal to a café for a few hours.
Ordinary is hosting gatherings inside your home.
Ordinary is attending religious services, town halls, city council meetings, school board meetings - in rooms full of people sitting in uncomfortable chairs under harsh lighting.
Ordinary is flying. Flying for business, for pleasure, to attend funerals, weddings, graduations, births, to go back to school. Or taking Amtrak.
Ordinary is all the people you encounter on a regular basis, but have no relationship with outside of those moments passed together.
All of these are ordinary things. Some of them happen daily, or weekly, and others only once in a while. But it is the texture ordinary creates that makes living so rich. That helps us feel human, alive, and connected to the world around us.
The pandemic has thrown ordinary into upheaval. Every day has felt extraordinary. Hyper vigilant. It is exhausting.
Not until after Inauguration Day did I determine it is actually ordinary for which we are all wistful. The 45 Presidency, even B.C., was in and of itself extraordinary by the minute.
And, during these past four years many of us experienced a new form of ordinary: civic engagement. May civic engagement become ordinary for us all, without the extraordinary threat too often presented during 45’s term.
Once we move beyond the intensity of the pandemic, we will still worry. We will still struggle. We will still have days where we feel overwhelmed, exhausted. We will still be invited to things we don't want to attend. We will still plan things considering our guests. But, all of it will once again happen in the ordinary way.
“Joy comes to us in moments- ordinary moments. We risk missing out on joy when we get too busy chasing down the extraordinary. Scarcity culture may keep us afraid of living small, ordinary lives, but when you talk to people who have survived great losses, it is clear that joy is not a constant. Without exception, all the participants who spoke to me about their losses, and what they missed the most, spoke about ordinary moments.” - Brené Brown Daring Greatly (page 125)
What is ordinary to you? Feel free to share in the comments.
RESOURCES
Love this list. It made me very sad and very happy all at once. The distinction is such a good one. I’ll be thinking about “ordinary” all day... for now all I can think of to add is: when walking my dog, crossing the street TOWARDS another dog walker to let our dogs sniff, rather than crossing away because I forgot my mask (or they theirs).