During the Covid 19 pandemic, I lived and worked in the Seacoast Region of New Hampshire.
At the start of the pandemic, my days were spent caring for my mental health and sharing resources for others. I spent a lot of time outside, appreciating both the neighborhoods I was getting to know and the beautiful landscape of the seacoast. I had a core pod with my partner and our roommates, and we watched movies, made fun cocktails, cooked dinners together and discussed the meaning of life. This pod felt safe and like a little taste of community while we were so isolated and desperately needed each other.
Something I learned about myself during the Covid 19 pandemic is that community is more than the people around you. Community is a sense that you belong somewhere, that your presence is valued, that you will be held as you grow. We need to care for each other, beyond the darkest times of the pandemic. I learned what felt like community and what did not. When I entered into spaces as “the world opened back up” and they were referring to themselves as a community, yet not saying hello or building connection, I felt a pull towards that simpler and more tender time. I also felt a pull to create what it was that I was needing. A desire to check in on my loved ones beyond how are you’s, and remind ourselves of the collective grief in need of processing and healing form. I learned what is important and to listen to my body, above all else. I learned to go slow, to rest, to invest in caring for my body and mind, to ask for help and accept support from others. I learned the ways we were living, and are now back to living, are making us all sick and disconnected. I learned the cracks in a flawed system and felt a longing to go deeper into them. I learned how much I want to keep learning and growing, slowly and with my whole heart.
I would like future New Hampshire generations to know is that we all had a unique experience. For the most part, people respected and supported one another.