Ever since I was a child, there was BC and AD. There was a time Before Christ, and then there was a time After Dead (or, at least, that's how we were taught). Of course, as an adult I knew that AD stood for Anno Domini, or in the year of our Lord, but ever since the argument about creationism fired back up, the acronyms have changed. My modern debate about the age of the world and the universe and how we came to be was really sparked by a wine-fueled ambushed conversation about it with a born again former Hawaiian Tropic model whom I stayed with in Fresno for a weekend before going to Yosemite the day after. She thought she could use the bible to remain invincible - she used religion as a shield - and beat me in an argument. Young earth creationists believe that the Bible states the earth is only 4,000 or so years old, based on how long people have been able to write and tell stories. They believe the big bang happened on the first day and everything, including the age of distant stars, was created at once. Forget prehistory of man and formation of planets. Forget the dinosaurs and how long it takes light to travel.
The conversation with the model never went that deep. She just kept repeating a request to show definitive proof of evolution, definitive proof of the age of things, and I argued back that there isn't much proof to explain her side of things, that yes, many fundamental things she believed in could co-exist with science without making it an us/them debate. It wasn't the only thing we argued about that weekend, the only topic she wanted to corner me on. The entire weekend was an enigma, and when I finally left early on a Sunday morning to drive back home I felt euphoric, independent, evolved. I stopped to eat breakfast and looked forward to anything that came my way. The girl became a fossil, an ideology that was buried with BC and AD, with old stories and outdated math. Old ways became just stories, and I got more confirmation seeking truth in the present than relying on old ways of thinking or tales from thousands of years ago.
BC became BCE (Before Common Era) and AD became CE (Common Era), and I feel like we're right back to rebooting this whole thing again. 2021 is a gateway. What existed in 2019 couldn't exist in 2020, and therefore 2021 sets some new rules. Forget about nostalgia. The only currency is truth and authenticity. The only things we can really grasp are what's happening right now and the potential we have to choose our destination. That's all. The rest are just stories.
The pandemic shut everything down. It stopped careers, whole businesses permanently closed doors, and we had to watch the horror of people getting sick and losing their lives in the same space as people who denied any of it was actually happening. We’re coming out of it, and while we check our limbs and hearts and minds, the assessment I have from where I’m sitting is that I haven’t been this good in years. It almost feels rebellious, as if I have to deny any old ideas that people have of me, but I feel like it's healthy. In fact, many things have reset old triggers, and even when I revisit feelings or situations, they feel familiar but detached. Time and loss will do that to a person. And yet, I feel optimistic and in control. I hate to say that the pandemic was a necessary thing, but maybe in hindsight I see this tragic event as an important reset, at least one that I can make useful. It ended some things that I loved - in fact, some things I loved ended before it happened - but sometimes you only learn about the value of things after you've lost them. Hindsight is a fantastic tool if you don't romanticize things.
We went on to talk about other things, catching up, talking about some promises made in the past. It was great. It felt familiar, like every conversation I have with the one family member I'm regularly in touch with. It was the opposite of the conversation with the girl in Fresno. That's why there will be more like it, where I have never talked to the Fresno girl again. I should have known about that model anyway; She quit a play I was directing almost 2/3rds of the way through the process. I used to see people and idealize them, hoping for the best. Now I see people differently based on the situation we're in. The musicians I've worked with, we've been through some of the same experiences, had the same losses and wins, had a balance of great and bad news. But there's a spectrum. Even with family there's a spectrum.
While I have given myself room to feel happiness, disappointment, moments of joy, I've practiced coming back to zero, because this life has built a bubble for me to create in, to be curious and adventurous, to continue learning and exploring. The pause in 2020 has just enhanced it, and I feel like my parents are cheering me on, but at the same time wondering just like my friend why I can't share that with anyone. I feel like she was talking on their behalf.
I'm okay with that. This is the dawn of a new time, the early morning hours of a new day that stretches years, decades, a lifetime yet to be discovered. What happens to me would be of little consequence to most everyone. What happens to my immediate world, the traveling spotlight I carry with me, will make a huge difference.
Everything is possible.
