April Editor’s Letter: Finding Your Anchor

On nights that involve sheltering in place in my apartment—going to bed hasn’t been easy.

Knowing that the same will come tomorrow hasn’t been a refreshing thought in my mind. All of the plans I had made, gone, all of the errands I could finish, dashed, all the people I wanted to see, virtual. This concoction doesn’t make for a wonderful night’s rest.

I’ve been listening to a lot of Mitski’s “Nobody”—it’s a song I can associate myself to during this intense period of loneliness. It’s not a lack of friends or a lack of family per say, but a loneliness that can only be described as locked tight in a jewel box. “Oh my god, I’m so lonely, so I open the window to hear sounds of people,” I can relate. This new normal takes a lot of mental adjusting to be able to tell oneself in the mirror that, yes, this is the new normal. 

It’s not a lack of friends or a lack of family per say, but a loneliness that can only be described as locked tight in a jewel box.

Though every night, one thing’s for certain and unchanging in this ever-changing landscape: Sutro Tower. It’s glowing red beams in the evening, standing tall, unbending to the ways around it. Though the fog will consume it in its entirety—I know that it is still there, it’s not going away. I get simple passing glances of The Tower in the day time but when the night falls, it’s the only thing in my view. The tower has given me a small glimmer of hope and a much needed anchor to remind myself that I am too strong and unbending. Tucking myself into bed, I find myself giving it one last glance before I fall asleep—as a nod to another oncoming day. 


As I enter day 50 of quarantine and shelter-in-place, it occurs to me that though the Sutro Tower has been my anchor of reality, I reflect on what “the new normal” is. Yes, how you go about your lives may change, how to conduct business, or get groceries—those you love will remain normal. Being able to FaceTime or call your brother, mother, father, sister, grandmother and talk about each other’s days; reflect on memories is what keeps us tethered to normal. I don’t need to open up my window to hear sounds of people, I can call them whenever I please.

As you adjust to what is going to be “the everyday”—find the anchor in those you love and continue to reciprocate your time together as if nothing happened. This is truly how you make a new normal, normal.

// Photography by Adam Warner. Items listed in this post are not sponsored but are affiliated. Have questions on affiliate links? Check out our editorial policy here.

April Editor’s Letter: Finding Your Anchor
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