Chapter 1: The Shift to the Unknown

The title of this piece came to me during a dream, a common occurrence, and I recognized it as a profound truth. This realization has been particularly evident during the past few years. It all started in the bleakest moments of the pandemic, when I had to adapt to an unusual routine. On the rare occasions I ventured outside, I made sure to carry a mask and hand sanitizer. As a member of a high-risk group due to cardiovascular issues, I relied on others to handle grocery shopping. Each time I stepped into a store, a wave of panic would wash over me.

In ordinary times, I would have engaged in friendly conversations, but now I felt uneasy, fearing the possibility of encountering someone unmasked who could be carrying the virus. Upon returning home, I would spray my shoes with disinfectant and sometimes even change my clothing. While I can't confirm whether this helped, I didn't contract COVID until April/May of 2022. I credit my vaccinations and booster shot for the mildness of my case, which was further alleviated by Paxlovid.

During my time at home, I continued to support my therapy clients through telehealth and kept in touch with family and friends via phone, FaceTime, and Zoom. Occasionally, we would meet outdoors, maintaining our distance. The hardest part was being apart from my son, daughter-in-law, and newborn grandson, whom I had seen nearly every day since his birth. It's surprising how much one can miss changing diapers until they can no longer do so. I particularly longed for hugs, especially since I had embraced the "FREE HUGS" initiative since 2014.

I eventually left my gym and transitioned to home workouts, utilizing a recumbent bike, yoga mat, exercise ball, and hand weights for some physical activity—though it was far less intense than my previous routine at Planet Fitness, where I had been a regular for five or six years. During walks in my neighborhood, I realized that on beautiful sunny days, without the knowledge of a global pandemic, I would have genuinely enjoyed immersing myself in nature.

As I adapted to this new way of living, I held onto hope that we would eventually return to a sense of "normalcy" where we could reconnect with others. Now, over three years since the onset of the pandemic, I find myself experiencing that shift. I go to my office without a mask, dine in restaurants, enjoy movies, and have resumed giving hugs in public. I’ve rejoined my gym, attending sessions 3–5 times a week depending on my schedule. However, there are still two activities I haven’t resumed: flying in an airplane and hosting a workshop called Cuddle Party, which involves close physical proximity for hours.

Despite being able to go out, I often choose to stay in. At times, I lack the energy, stamina, or even the desire to engage socially. My uniquely decorated home has become my sanctuary. Even after the pandemic "officially ended," only a handful of people have visited. In the past, friends and family would come and go freely. This October, as I celebrate my 65th birthday, I plan to invite them over for the first time since 2020.

The social butterfly in me has temporarily tucked away her wings.

Adding to this complexity is the ongoing political turmoil across the globe. Why can't people simply coexist peacefully? I have penned numerous articles discussing the state of our nation and have grappled with my judgments of fellow citizens who buy into misleading narratives, jeopardizing lives in the process. I’ve felt a deep sense of frustration over the erosion of rights and the fear of further division. The escalating climate crisis only heightens my concern for the future of our planet, especially for my grandchildren. My older grandson has welcomed a baby sister, born shortly after their family contracted COVID, but thankfully, she has remained unaffected.

My life has become more straightforward compared to the pre-pandemic era. I recognize that my previous self—an energetic, socially active, sleep-deprived Type A overachiever—has transformed into someone who has learned to slow down. I’ve embraced the concept introduced to me by Lisa Nichols years ago: to attract rather than pursue what I desire. This still requires planting the seeds of my visions and taking actionable steps, but it also calls for surrendering the outcome.

At times, my feelings are tinged with anxiety and outright fear. I used to rely on certainty, or what I believed to be certainty. As I age, I find that the things I know for sure diminish. I’m learning to live by faith rather than mere facts, trusting that everything will ultimately work out for the best.

Today, I find comfort in the familiar sounds of my favorite radio show, Sleepy Hollow on WXPN, followed by a workout at the gym and dinner with a longtime friend at a new farm-to-table restaurant in our area.

May you find comfort wherever you can.

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The story was previously published on The Good Men Project.

About Edie Weinstein

Edie Weinstein, MSW, LSW is a vibrant journalist, motivational speaker, licensed social worker, interfaith minister, editor, radio host, BLISS coach, event producer, and certified Laughter Yoga Leader. She authored "The Bliss Mistress Guide to Transforming the Ordinary into the Extraordinary" and co-authored "Embraced by the Divine: The Emerging Woman's Gateway to Power, Passion, and Purpose." Edie has contributed to various anthologies and personal growth books and has interviewed prominent figures such as Ram Dass, Wayne Dyer, and His Holiness the Dalai Lama. She identifies as an Opti-mystic, viewing the world through the lens of possibility. Edie also writes for publications like The Huffington Post and Psych Central and founded Hug Mobsters Armed With Love, organizing FREE HUGS events both planned and spontaneous. You can find more about her at www.opti-mystical.com.