the beauty of self isolation

I wake up everyday to a media plagued with disease (literally), bad news stacking up like unwanted junk mail, but a thousand times worse. I’m confined within the four walls of the cube that is my home. The place that I’ve looked forward to returning to after a long day out has slowly morphed into a prison-like structure, it’s air heavy and silence overbearing. What started out as a new schedule has turned into a ball and chain I can’t get rid of, like clockwork it clatters on. I’ve tried out new hobbies: guitar, embroidery, and drawing, things I’ve always labeled with “I’ll do it later.” in an effort to fight off the boredom of daily life and find happiness amidst the chaos. However, it was the silent, abstract moments before I drifted off to sleep when I discovered the good in the evil, the beauty in the dying.

I was so clouded by anger and overwhelmed at the prospect of prolonged isolation when the virus first hit that I wasn't able to find the beauty in all this. And no, it’s not just a silver lining, it’s the obvious fruit that we’re all somewhat blind to. One month ago, I was just your average freshman eager to make a mark in the great big ocean that is high school. I was on this sprint to self fulfillment, using work and deadlines to fill up the void that was time. I remember thinking to myself that this was what made me feel truly alive, like nothing beside my weekly goals mattered. I was on this treadmill that I couldn’t and wouldn’t get off of, a treadmill that was going at 10 and not 5. The adrenaline blinded me, my heavy breath fogged up the mirror facing me. Slowly, I lost my reflection. I was aware of this, but I didn’t care. The only thing on my mind was to run faster, take less breaks, and drink less water. I wanted to turn my mind and body into a machine of sorts, even if productivity was achieved at the expense of destroying the essence of who I am.

When the virus took over my life, I was angry that something had stopped me, disappointed that I had to stop and get off the treadmill. No longer could I go to my late night extracurricular classes or attend those resume-stacking contests. Now it turns out that that’s what saved me.

I got lost in the chase, was too fixated on the destination. That might seem all good and well, it just means you're motivated...right? Wrong. With motivation comes a great work ethic, but it's a fine line between that and self destruction. My mind and body couldn't keep up with the pace, and I was sacrificing parts of myself left and right: my interests, social life, hobbies...you name it. I expressed doubts every now and then to my peers, but they just applauded me for my drive. No one saw beneath the shiny frontier of awards and accolades, therefore no one stopped me, and no one could even if they did. COVID-19 did. It forced me to pause and reflect, not just see the blur that is scenery on my run, but truly appreciate it.The blue specs transformed into flowers and the green dots into trees. As a result, I've gotten closer to my family and friends, rediscovered my passions, and refocused my goals. Those are true gems none of us can afford to lose, no matter what's at stake.

We’ve all heard, “Life is not a race, it’s a marathon.” My resume is not a deadline, but rather a tracker of my growth. Work is not my savior, it’s my tool. Empty planners have always made me feel uneasy; they gave me the feeling that I was wasting valuable time on distractions whilst on my path to greatness. Energetic days made me feel discouraged, as if I wasn’t pushing my body to its full potential. These energetic, empty-planner days have shown me otherwise. Only in the face of emptiness; emptiness from people and work and contests and deadlines, can we find who we really are. This period of self isolation is the biggest blessing we’ve been given. It’s the battle against all-consuming technology and never ending treadmills. It’s the pause in time that we deemed impossible, but desperately need. The mirror is no longer foggy, it's unclouded and I’m seeing myself clearer than ever. You are too.