The places I can go to are now severely limited. I mostly sit atop my bed or stand to create cuisine in the kitchen. There is only the hour or so I spend wandering within the 2 kilometers that I leave the confines of the space I am living in. I am not alone or unique in this disruption of normal life. We are amidst a pandemic, as a virus circulates throughout humanity, threatening our structures and systems. Each person has been impacted in some way or another. Whether they are considered essential and are now working at a much higher risk, or they lost their job and are now vulnerable to a lack of money, or they continue to have their job but are now working at home where tensions are higher and productivity is lower. No matter what the circumstances, everything has changed dramatically since this virus has spread globally.
I lost my job temporarily as the Cafe is not open, so I am collecting emergency unemployment from the Irish government. I’ve lost the ability to travel within Dublin and outside of the country. But not all is lost, I moved about a month ago. Located between the Rathmines and Ranelagh neighborhoods I am a quick 35-minute walk from St. Stephens Green and only a 20-minute walk to the canal that surrounds the city. No longer will I be reliant on the 15B bus route. I enjoy new-found freedom and a beautiful window looking out on a massive green tree and various backyards.
The people I can see are also severely limited. I live alone in this flat, though I am never 
really alone. I am influenced and connected with people through speakers, screens and pages. I talk to my family every day, and nearly every day I talk to a friend. A vast range of topics are covered daily, but nearly every conversation mentions the current chaos and disruption. Then there are people’s voices speaking about interesting subjects via podcasts, and art forms to watch and listen to in music and videos. Thanks to the internet, I am endlessly surrounded by other human beings.
Though I do miss face-to-face interaction. I miss sitting across from friends in the community, I miss walking and talking, I miss dancing. A virtual connection is no doubt useful and crucial in this physically distant world, but at best it is solely a substitute. It does not compare with the intimacy of in-person connection. Those subtle glances, touches, the spontaneity of possibility. I, and I’m sure we all, yearn for the day when we can embrace our people.
A potentially overlooked lesson this pandemic is demonstrating is how interconnected we are. Without knowing it we can have immense influence over other people and the way they 
conduct their lives. We see this now as someone without symptoms can unintentionally pass along a virus that could have a fatal impact. But this was true prior to the pandemic as well. A seemingly small and unimportant comment passed onto a stranger could vastly impact the outlook of their day. Or you could be incredibly intentional about the way you conduct yourself, aware of your own influence. Regardless, this global symbol of solidarity through solitude has effectively illustrated how vastly connected we are in this wild world.
And of course, I am struggling with maintaining this idea of purpose.
I was content with where I was at this halfway point for this year; I have a community of friends, a job, and the ability to travel freely. But all of those things have been called into question. Life is always uncertain to some extent, but with this uncertainty, there is nothing reliable to grasp. This is the only time in my life that I have not been actively involved with anything. Even when I would take a step back from what I was pursuing, I still had things to 
work on that would be externally assessed. In this context, I have no deadlines to meet, no shifts to show up for, no external places to travel to and learn, there is absolutely nothing expected of me. What, then, is my purpose?
Before this, I would feel a desire and a need to leave my house to gain a sense of accomplishment. My home was just a place to leave my belongings, to sleep and eat breakfast. Each day I would have work or I explored a new part of town or met up with a friend. This new lifestyle challenges me to look inward, to ask what I want to pursue, what I want to learn. I now fill my days with learning Spanish, writing, doodling, doing yoga, cooking, and staring out my window. But I also wonder if that is enough. If the various hobbies I am engaged in is enough to show for the immense amount of time I have during this lockdown.
As the people, places and purpose I am experiencing have vastly shrunk, it has not entirely diminished this journey. Rather than looking externally, I have turned internal. I continue this journey of knowledge acquisition and self-awareness, though in a different context than I imagined. Just as always before, we are but living in a brief snapshot in time.
