Newsletter from Jay Wilcox - May 2022: On Shrinking

Good morning/afternoon/evening!

It's been a long time since I sent a newsletter. I sincerely hope you're well.

Early in this pandemic, I wore a mask to protect others. I believed we could beat this disease if we just banded together and did our parts. I found comfort in internet memes about mask etiquette and maintenance, about the struggles we all faced in adapting together. Women joked about saving money on lipstick. Guys discussed extra-long masks to cover their beards--heck, I even saw an ad for masks that had beards printed on them, customizable colors and sizes.

The world was adapting. We would survive, would heal, together.

I'm tired. Don't get me wrong, I still want to protect others--but my focus has shrunk, an umbrella folding in around me and my own. Honestly, by the time the vaccine debuted, I was too worn out to get the shot for anybody's sake but my own. Too heartbroken, frankly, to feel like others were looking out for me.

There's just so much to worry about. On the heels of my COVID worries come worries about our government and politics, and I'd like to be part of some big, collaborative effort to right the world's wrongs--but sometimes it's too exhausting to exist as a clenched fist, to be anything other than simple and selfish. Whatever may befall us, just please let me keep the things and routines that I value. Maybe there's beauty in such shrinking--in focusing on our most important moments and relationships, the small pieces of the world within our control.

Hannah and I bought a house back in October. We love the kitchen, in particular, and the space for all our books. We love our view of Baltimore's skyline. Our place came with a blank garden bed out front, and the time I've spent tilling soil feels like the most restorative part of each week. Plunging a shovel into the earth and turning it over. Making it soft, ready for life. Current events feel heavier each year, but there must still be little moveable pieces, seeds we can plant and for which we can wait hopefully.

I've been writing. I stepped away from the newsletter for a bit because I was more or less working on two novels at once, while teaching a full course load--but maybe shrinking, becoming deliberate about life's most important details--can present an opportunity for growth. There is a smaller world than the entire world, and I'm completely here for all of it.

I hope you're well. You are more than welcome to write back if you'd like.

Infinite Regards,

Jay