I have long been fascinated by quantum physics, poetry, and the musings of what is reality, and it shows in my writing. I go about coolly accepting the unreality of the universe, peering enthralled at the night sky, knowing I’m only seeing the light energy of stars that ceased to exist aeons ago.
And speaking of what affects one’s reality – these past months have sure brought home the fact that many people are living in their own realities. People perceiving themselves as patriots, while millions around the world see them as perpetrators of hooliganism and violence. Someone so truly self-absorbed, so fully narcissistic, that defeat of any kind is simply intolerable, to the point that he would rather incite civil war then concede loss. People who fundamentally believe their skin colour denotes superiority to the point that those who do not look like them are of no value. People who will not take the words of bona fide experts, but will buy into conspiracy theories touted about on social media without any regard to scientific fact. You get the picture. It has been harrowing, to say the least.
But without having a mental pathology, the rest of us could be having our perception of reality affected by the lockdown, and not even realize it. Looking over my scribblings of the past ten months or so, I can see dark twists and characters have shown up in my writing. What’s going on? I think I have found a clue.
This weekend I listened to a neuroscientist on CBC’s Quirks and Quarks describe how boredom from isolation is affecting the part of the brain that influences impulse control among certain individuals. But that can’t be me, I thought, I’m really busy! Here’s the weird thing:
Being busy doesn’t cure boredom. Contrary to popular belief, (what I certainly thought) boredom doesn’t mean you have nothing to do:
“Boredom is this unfulfilled desire for satisfying activity. It’s this desperate urge and feeling where we want to be engaged, but we can’t be engaged,” said John Eastwood, head of the Boredom Lab at York University and Danckert’s co-author on Out of my skull: the Psychology of Boredom.
The CBC researcher went on to explain how boredom is a mental health issue, contributing to risky pandemic behaviour, and even affecting our politics.
That could explain so much!
The good news is some things have changed since 2020. My American friends describe feeling a sense of actual relief after four years. The rest of the world feels a lot better too, knowing an unstable egocentric no longer has keys to any red buttons. The worry and uncertainty round possible re-election of a clearly unhinged world leader has lifted like a heavy fog, leaving a metaphorical shining lake of possibilities. We have vaccines for Covid-19 that are starting to be dispensed. Hope is tangible once again.
I know, I know: the honeymoon will not last forever. We denizens of this little blue planet still have climate change, a pandemic, major focal points of the economy to re-direct focus on, not to mention the issues of bigotry and prejudice existing on every level. But I am hopeful.
It will be interesting when we can all look back on 2021 to see if our writing reflects anything differently from the past year under lockdown. I wonder if there will be more dystopian themes than usual, or if it will go the other way, and people will be writing to forget the roiling events fomented (though begun long before that) in 2020.
Meantime, the first month of this new year is at least starting off in a better direction. Vaccines are rolling out; this pandemic will not last forever; an end is in sight. As the grip of a pandemic-manifested boredom lessens with each step forward, we can go in a new direction.
So here’s to 2021: may we all reflect on the power of our own words, and the words written by Amanda Gorman:
“When day comes we ask ourselves, where can we find light in this never-ending shade? The loss we carry, a sea we must wade, We’ve braved the belly of the beast We’ve learned that quiet isn’t always peace And the norms and notions of what just is Isn’t always just-ice
And yet the dawn is ours…”
