365 Days and Counting

Yesterday marked my one-year anniversary of boarding a plane in Singapore bound for Taipei, Taiwan.

I touched down 365 days ago, with a backpack no larger than the one I used in high-school, clothes enough for a week, and thoughts of laying-low for a month or so, while the pandemic globally ran its course. 

My flight was a red-eye that departed on March 17th.  On the morning of the 18th, my arrival date, the Taiwanese government implemented a policy that all those arriving from abroad would need to quarantine 14 days at a sanctioned facility. (ICYMI: http://bit.ly/3s1IdKN)

This would be the first item, on what has proven to be a long list of the unexpected.

I had no idea that I would go over a year without seeing anyone that I knew before the pandemic began, or that I would develop such a keen green thumb and own more plants than at any other time in my life.

The emotions and lessons have also come in droves.

I have felt both rudderless and established in ways I had never imagined.  I have felt both loneliness and connectedness in ways I could not have anticipated.  I have felt both frustration and peace in ways I did not think possible.

I wish I had listened to my intuition from the beginning and more quickly accepted the reality of the last twelve months.  Those first few months I floated from Airbnb to Airbnb and made decisions that were hopeful rather than rational.  Looking back these decisions were more me playing the victim and trying to rebel against what was happening to me, rather than moving forward and accepting the reality of what actually was.

In one way or another we have all authored similar, yet unique stories.  Stories of how we have felt and dealt with the change that has been foisted upon us. 

The only constant for all of us, it seems, has the been the impetus to challenge how and what we perceive as normal.

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It was a decision made in a rush.  At noon on March 17th, 2020, I was sitting in a coffee shop in Thailand, and by 6 pm, I had moved out of my apartment, returned my rental car, packed up and stored my things, and arrived at the airport ready to depart. 

One year on, I have no regrets about taking that flight. If I had to do it again, I’d make the same decision, I’d just remember to pack a sweater.