I’ve Been Changed

In 2020, the world shut down, but somehow I discovered new ways to travel— without ever leaving my house. Covid clipped our wings, grounded our vacations, and turned “social” into a dirty word. Yet it also handed me a boarding pass to places I’d never explored—most of them inside my own head. (Not all destinations I’d recommend, by the way.)

At first, isolation felt like a prison sentence. My calendar emptied, my front door stayed shut, and the highlight of my week was waving at the UPS driver. But once the shock wore off, solitude turned out to be its own odd kind of freedom. With nowhere to go and no one to impress, I could finally wander through my thoughts—usually while still in pajamas.

That year, I roamed emotional deserts where cactus dust scratched and solitude stung. I swam in glacier-cold pools of sadness, stubbed my heart on rocks of frustration, and occasionally tripped into surprise bursts of joy. My imagination, long lulled by busy schedules, suddenly sat up, rubbed its eyes, and said, “Well, since we’re here…” There were dim days that dragged, nights that glowed, and an alarming number of conversations with myself. I became a tourist in my own life—squinting for clarity, snapping mental photos of fleeting insight, and buying no souvenirs except a few new wrinkles.

Now the world talks of vaccines and “getting back to normal,” but I know the trip isn’t over. The paths I found in that strange year still stretch ahead—some to share with others, some to wander alone. Either way, I’ve been changed.

Turns out, 2020 gave me something no travel agency ever could: frequent flyer miles to nowhere, and a passport to a new me.

Little 

Voice