BOS 12 22 2021 doublesize
"I am tired of people saying we've turned the corner on this pandemic. We turned the corner. Hit a wall. Turned another corner, and then had to turn another and another and another and on and on. Enough already," said someone on the radio last week. I can't remember who. I remember trying to imagine the shape they had drawn with that many corners.

Our family who lives in Kingston had already cancelled coming home for Christmas given the difficult situation in that city. Then, case counts hit three thousand and limits to indoor gatherings meant rethinking the whole Christmas plan. We turned the idea one way and then another, thought we had an alternative plan. Objections to the plan had me rethinking, developing another. Then the family crossing the border completely rearranged their plans. That had other people rethinking. I gave up planning. We will see whoever we see in person and repeat last year's zoom call with everybody. The twenty-pound turkey made sense when I got it. Not so much these days.

More than a year ago, we took to calling this "pivoting." When an organization or business took a strategic new direction, finding a way around restrictions or a niche with a new opportunity, it was said they pivoted. News media love to find these stories of successful change. The stories get retold in order to encourage us, to spread the message that it is possible to navigate this pandemic.

Pivot sounds graceful, almost like a dance. The reality is hard slogging. Plans are put in place based on current information, but this pandemic seems to have a way of shifting so that today's information will not be correct tomorrow. Remember when the proof of vaccination mandate was going to be lifted in the middle of January? With case counts hitting four thousand on Sunday, it is hard to imagine we ever thought that would happen.

Government and public health officials are talking about covid fatigue. People are worried that we are so tired of restrictions that we won't follow new ones that are put in place. I think there is another fatigue: we are tired of trying to figure out what is right.

A minister on a Sunday YouTube service described the feeling she had when she had to interpret new rules for her congregation. "I am so done with making decisions," she said. And she quoted a Globe and Mail columnist who talked about standing in the cereal aisle looking at two boxes of oatmeal, both of which claimed to be healthy and nutritious. She was paralyzed. She could not make a decision.

We've made so many decisions, so many choices. We've relaxed our practices. I've been going into grocery stores these days. Then we have an outbreak in our area, and we try to figure out how it affects us. What practices should we change? For those with direct contact, it is easy. Public health calls up, says that you are a close contact. You isolate. You get tested on day x. But for the rest of us, we try to imagine where we might get near to that outbreak.

I sympathize with the workers who did not want to enter Holland-Chatsworth school because there was an outbreak in certain cohorts. I understand why the school board chose to close St. Mary's High School as several cohorts were dismissed. Public Health made the point that they had not ordered the closure, but the school board listened to those who were worried.

Was it the right choice? Maybe. Maybe not. I am not sure asking for the right choice is helpful. Closing the school was an understandable choice.

I do think there are some rights and wrongs. It is wrong not to wear a mask in a public setting. But mostly, there are choices we can understand and choices that don't make sense to us. I think we need to forgive ourselves for not knowing what is right, for making the choices we need to make.

Used to be I was tired in this season because there was so much to do. This year's tiredness is different. But now that decisions have been made, I think I can let myself relax. It will be what it will be. And it might even be well, will be well enough, once I let go.

Cathy Hird lives on the traditional territory of the Saugeen Ojibway Nation