CRITICA

Dear Community,

The Federal government has declared that the COVID pandemic is over. I’ve been thinking about what we’ve all been through and how our world changed. The devastating loss of over a million Americans and untold millions around the world has not been memorialized in a significant way that might help us heal as a community. There has been little leadership in helping us mourn what we have lost.

I notice in my patients the effects of these losses, and how the struggle to come back is difficult. Perhaps our desire to go back to life as it was before the pandemic is not in line with what is realistic, both in terms of what we want, and what is possible. For those whose lives have resumed their former shape and rhythm, it may be that the surface effects of the years of COVID have been left behind but the deeper wounds remain.

About two years into the pandemic I gave up my office. When I recently talked to my patients about the possibility of meeting in person, almost all of them were reluctant. Some because they are still afraid of COVID. Most felt satisfied with our remote meetings and did not feel the time lost in the commute was worth what they might gain by being physically together. I have to say that I feel the same way, while at the same time missing the in-person contact. I love staying home and being able to wander around the house and play with my dog between sessions, but I do feel a loss of connection, not just with individual patients, but with the world. Driving to my office, bumping into people in my building, running out to get a coffee and exchanging a few words with the barista, these small acts brought me into the larger world, and helped me feel connected. Some of you have been in your offices throughout the pandemic, and began in person sessions some time ago. Perhaps in that case the shifts don’t feel as acute. For others, I know the pandemic gave the freedom to work from anywhere, and that has become a permanent choice. The glut of office space in San Francisco and elsewhere in the Bay Area seems to represent the larger community’s reluctance to return to full-time in person work.

It seems important to reflect on the changes we have all experienced, and the cultural trauma that has touched us. I know most of us have been very lucky to have homes to shelter in and work we can do remotely, as so many have not.

Surely the residual damage to health care and service workers has not been addressed. PINC, as an educational institute, is facing similar changes. In our local cohorts, some candidates want to return to in person classes. Others do not. Faculty seems similarly divided. Our new outreach to faculty around the country means that those teachers will be remote. This is both a boon and a limitation. Many of us are wondering how PINC is going to be reshaped by the experiences we have all had over the last several years.

I am writing about this now because I feel the need to mark the moment and consider where we have been and where we are now. In our retreat this year, we had the opportunity to reflect on the effects of the pandemic on our personal and professional lives. One of the questions we considered is something that we might want to keep in mind for the foreseeable future. As stated in the retreat announcement (which was organized by the Members at Large of the Board of Directors, Julie Leavitt, Carole Christensen, and Sheila Longerbeam): How do we find our way back to each other in community, to reconnect and metabolize the effects of so much disruption and change? I think this question remains open for much contemplation in the future.