Author: Darragh Clayton
Intro
No matter who you are or where you are in the world, this year has turned your life upside down. The COVID-19 pandemic has dramatically changed the way we work, learn, communicate, create, interact, and go about everyday life. Something else it has changed, which we may have given less thought to, is our identities.
For me, one of the most unsettling parts of the pandemic was the contrast between my usually bustling life and this sudden, daunting, empty space that I was confronted with last March.
Over the last year, I have changed in many ways that would be difficult to pinpoint, as I believe we all have:
Aren’t we all different people when no one else is watching — when we are removed from our everyday roles into which we have settled so comfortably? What do we do with that sense of fear and discomfort that strikes when we are taken out of our regular routine and environment? Does our definition of home change when it is a place we are confined to? What happens to us when the place we sleep also becomes the place we work and learn? As artists, do we still create if we have no one to create for? Are we still inspired to make art if we can’t see firsthand the impact it has on people?
These questions have been tumbling through my mind over the past several months, as has been the case for many others, although perhaps subconsciously. We have all had to reinvent ourselves this year to an extent. Being forced to stay inside the walls of my home for several months also led me back to all the things that make me who I am, no matter what the world around me looks like. At first, I felt distanced from myself, since I had never known a version of myself who had that much free time, and I didn’t know what to do with it.
As a writer, I was disappointed and confused when I realized I hadn’t touched a pencil in days or even weeks. But as I grew into this new person, or perhaps a version of myself that was always waiting to come out, I found grace and peace, realizing that I was probably the only thing I could control right now. As soon as I let myself adjust to the new rhythm of life, I felt refreshed and inspired to create again. Giving myself the time and space to feel my feelings, rather than suppress them, was the remedy I needed in order to want to write again.
In a society that is pressuring us to become a hundred different people, it’s courageous to be yourself and to live for yourself. In all honesty, it has been nice to have a year that allowed me to focus on me, and the things that make me happy, without worrying what the rest of the world thought. And I realize how lucky I am to be able to say that.
In this little collection of poetry, I have tried to portray the shift in my identity that took place during the last year. Some of the pieces were written early in the pandemic, while others are more recent.
Poems
you are not
your roles
you are not
the items on your to do list
you are not
a username;
you are not
what the rest of the world
turns you into
you are
the steady beat of your favourite song
you are
the pages of your cookbook worn down from use and stuck together with love
you are
the insistent scratch of a pencil filling your notebook page by page
you are
the dog ear folds in the corners of all your favourite novels
you are
the blended and beautiful mess of paints splayed across your canvas
you are
the gold in the first seconds of sunrise
and the glow of the full moon’s light
you are
the first breath of a meditation
and the last thought before you close your eyes
you are
the familiar twists in the roads you drive at night
and the worn route that leads you back home
you are
so many
little things.
i fear that i’ve
fallen out with my best friend.
disputes lie unresolved
words remain unspoken;
my pencil hasn’t touched the paper in weeks.
during a universal pause,
notebooks should be overflowing
i should have a million words
but instead
i have none.
still my page is empty.
my problems are minuscule
my thoughts irrelevant
enough could never be said
but i can’t find the words.
before and after
I am a new person because of this pandemic.
Not a skinnier, lighter, fitter person
Not an organized, productive, overachiever
I am a stronger person
who knows how to push through the fear of the unknown.
I am a kinder person
who is always wondering how
they can help others, even when they are hurting too.
I am a more grateful person
because I have reflected every day
on the things that really matter.
I am a more selfless person
constantly considering how my actions
will affect others around me.
I am a more cautious person
who has learned to value their health
through the fear of losing it.
I am a more loving person
who will hold everyone closer
and cling to moments
spent with the people I adore.
I am a more self-aware person,
because I’ve had time to feed my passions,
honour my strengths
and work on my weaknesses.
I am a healthier person
because I’ve had to learn how to
balance work, play, and relaxation
inside the walls of my own home.
I am a more mindful person
because I have learned how to
calm my mind in the middle of a storm.
I am a happier person
despite the state of the world
because I will never take anything for granted again.
roots
and suddenly
we’re us again;
strolling side-by-side
exploring worn paths
stumbling through tall grass
that used to tower over our heads
balancing on fallen trees
following our imaginations
instead of the trail
discovering and rediscovering
all the secrets
we used to share
all the places
we spent endless summer days
we now spend
swimming in nostalgia
falling back in love
with being wild
now, when my bare feet
kiss the sweet spring grass
i feel roots
pushing through the ground
growing and twisting and
settling in my soul
it’s okay
if this year
you didn’t
write a book
or
become fluent
in a new language
or
master the art of cooking
or
start working out twice a day
or
cut out sugar and carbs
and everything tasty.
it’s okay
if you didn’t
start a business
or
fill your walls with paintings
or
take virtual piano lessons
or
record a studio album
from your bedroom.
it’s okay
if you didn’t
organize your house
drawer by drawer
or
train for a marathon
or
renovate your kitchen
or
start a self-help podcast.
there is no winner
in a pandemic,
you survived
and i’m proud of you.
we’re broken
and it’s not that we’ll never
be whole again, it’s
just that
we will never
be put back together
in the same way
this time last year
we were entering a new one
a new decade
a fresh start
the year i would graduate high school
travel for the summer
and move away for university
this time last year
we had no idea
that in a couple of months
our entire world would turn upside down
and stay that way
for as far as we can see
this time last year
we had heard vaguely about
a virus spreading across the world
some of us didn’t even know
what a pandemic was
no one wore masks
and now we wear them every day
we didn’t use the words quarantine
or social distancing or unprecedented
hand sanitizer was just a precaution
not yet liquid gold
we couldn’t even imagine
the life we are now living
so for the sake of everything
i am allowing myself
to hold no expectations for 2021
but to imagine a year
that is better
that is happier and safer and kinder
i am allowing myself to be naive
and believe in a year of being together
because that’s all we can do,
dream of normalcy
and hugs.