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Most of us had high hopes for 2020.

I was all set to start a new job and was already prepared to make some serious life changes as my husband and I were set to start house hunting again. Finally, I would be out of that cramped apartment and away from a work environment that was slowly eroding away my soul.

A group of close friends and I had even come together to write out resolutions and promised to be each other’s accountability partners. Our year would be marked with lavish vacations, celebrations and new sources of revenue.

I was finally going to start that women’s organization I had my hopes set on, and hopefully, keep up the awesome workout regimen I’d been on. I’d step up my wardrobe, squat until I achieved my dream butt, get perfect skin, finished at least a first draft of my pending novel and visit overseas for the first time — basically, the usual collage of attainable yet difficult expectations on my vision board.

I got the job, and I eventually got the house— albeit a rental. And then, beyond everyone’s expectation, my life was put on lockdown in wake of the coronavirus pandemic.

Ten months later I’m still sitting on my couch working, writing, eating my feelings, binge watching television and exercising every excuse to not “exorcize” these love handles.

I often wonder how I’ll describe this year to my future children: unsettling, disappointing, frustrating, but ultimately, boring. I saw a lot happening in the world through television but not a lot happened to me.

I’ll remember watching politicians turn legitimate health concerns into political statements, companies’ virtues signaling through one of the first civil rights movement of the millennium and Americans fighting each other instead of an establishment that has continued to do nothing but milk its malnourished constituents for labor and funds.

Most importantly, I’ll recollect being completely alone with my thoughts.

It’s been a year of no distractions. No sitting in traffic for several hours a day as I commute from work. Little drinking and social galivanting. Fewer hours on the phone breathing in my friends’ and family’s issues. No in-person contact with my co-workers. No waking up two hours early to apply a full face of makeup and comb my unruly hair.

No rushing. More waiting.

In the time alone with my thoughts, I became more critical of the life I’ve been living and started uprooting my most fervent motivations. No one expects to have a lengthy intermission in the middle of a life shift, but the universe isn’t about keeping up our personal agendas, isn’t it?

In 2020, I realized most of my life was spent on autopilot. It went beyond zoning out during my hourlong work commute or disappearing into the comforting rhythm of apparent workaholism.

I was on autopilot in my marriage, shifting most of the household responsibilities to my partner and too distracted to engage romantically most days. I’m talking about date night, but some days the sex, too.

I was on autopilot in my career, mindlessly checking off items on goal lists and hunting for validation for my talents without evaluating whether I was actually making steps toward my true passions. Sure, I had financial responsibilities, but it’s not like I had to work around-the-clock to meet them.

I was on autopilot with myself, habitually eating my emotions instead of facing them and prioritizing everything over my self-pampering and self-care. Even my friendships were beginning to feel like a repetitive exercise.

This year taught me the importance of slowing down

It terrified me at first realizing all I had neglected in the daily grind of working and socializing, especially my buried emotions. Back when life was normal, it seemed like every interaction incited anger or anxiousness, so I trained myself to be neutral so I could get through the day without embarrassing myself.

Health experts are saying the pandemic has driven lots of people into a depression and the unmarked wait has spurred increasing frustration. While that may be true for many people, I think it’s the lack of distractions.

It can be tough facing your hang-ups and flimsy excuses head on with no where to run, especially if you have a lot of them. They build up overtime, and you just pile one onto the other without a second thought.

Life doesn’t help either. It’s noisy and full of distractions: relationships, responsibilities, various traumas and setbacks. There are also pleasant distractions: things that give us gratification or comfort but don’t actually benefit us.

I closed out the last year running on fleeting ambition and fear of losing all I had worked toward and sacrificed for. It was crippling to a point of physical exhaustion, and I felt trapped under a situation that I had gotten myself in, so I didn’t feel there was much to complain about. I wanted to stop and take a breath, but I couldn’t slow down.

In this time I’ve been forcibly slowed down by circumstances, I’ve realized slowing down doesn’t mean the world is going to crumble around you. We need to slow down inwardly away from all distractions every now and then to stay on course.

The year 2020 has presented us with challenges —something too many of us are familiar with — but with the world slowing down around us, it’s a moment for us to slow down as well. We can drop any unnecessary baggage and redirect ourselves from dead-end roads.