I had a good conversation with someone recently that I hadn’t talked to for ages. Naturally, one of the topics that came up was the Pandemic. (Yes, it had been that long since we had spoken.) I told them about a scene Western I had once watched with my father. The film had a running gag about the horse but the crux of it was this:

The cowboy rides into town. He rides up to the saloon, gets off the horse, grabs the reigns, and drops them onto the hitch. My father, who a lot of people don’t realize grew up around horses, starts laughing and pointing, “He didn’t even tie it up!”

The implication being that horse was so old, dumb, and broken it wouldn’t even think about leaving the hitch. I think about that horse, a lot.

I’m a month shy from my first anniversary of return to office. Everyday I hear people talk about “getting back to normal”. Increasingly, I hear people point out that epidemics and pandemics change things. The old normal is gone and there is no going back to it. And I think about that horse.

I have been through disasters of various length before. Blizzards that have forced me to seek refuge for the night. Hurricanes that have left me without running water for weeks. Early on, it felt like that. One of the happiest moments in my life was after five or six weeks when the door bell rang unexpectedly and it was my dad with fresh baked sourdough. Mom’s pandemic sourdough. He didn’t come in, but we stood at the door and chatted with my brother and I for an hour. There was a sense of purpose to it all: Flatten the curve. Keep the hospitals from being over run. Allow the scientists to do their job. Allow the supply chain to produce the necessary goods. I didn’t think much about the horse then.

As the pandemic has progressed my response has ebbed with the relative level of severity. I’m fortunate enough to work from home. People I know who have to work with the public acknowledge they can do their jobs, but it’s stressful. One of the things I heard about only recently was the nose bleeds from wearing masks all the time. I wouldn’t know, the longest I’ve had to wear a mask was maybe two hours. It was uncomfortable, not debilitating, and I’m lucky to be in a career that allows me to work in an environment I have control over. As the waves of the pandemic have come and gone that horse has become relevant.

I realized at some point I was walking around with a tether that isn’t tied to anything at the other end. That’s not to say I don’t do anything. I volunteer. I have friends I see a couple nights a week. The gym ebbs and flows with severity and, brother, have we been on an ebb with Omicron. Sure, it’s been winter and I don’t like the cold. Weekend come and I find them empty, a respite from work, an opportunity to sleep. Truthfully when Monday comes I’m happy for something to do. Naturally, I’ve started to wonder if I’m that horse.

Or is this just what your 40’s are as a single person. You’ve achieved the professional and financial goals of your 20’s. Now let the plan work until you retire. Maybe the horse stayed because he was well fed.

Or maybe in this new world it’s possible to step away from the hitch post.