My father-in-law was a classic inhabitant of his time and place, although I thought it was probably a little less geographical (it was Texas, though) than temporal. He was born in the 1920s and so became a child of the Depression.

There was no one in my family of this vintage, which is surprising but understandable. My parents were born 12 years later; their early childhood memories are of the War, not the Depression. And obviously my grandparents were older, already teenagers and older during the economic crisis.

All were surely affected, although I’ve always found it interesting to focus on the children in these historical eras, and I mean eras – I’m not as interested in moments, as that becomes more personal and a question of awareness, etc. It’s easy to say that an entire generation of children were scarred by the Challenger explosion, for example, but I doubt very much that’s true. It was a traumatic moment for many of them, for sure. But lifelong? More of an individual thing.

As with the other calamities, from natural disasters to terrorist attacks. They have an impact, often huge, but they don’t affect large groups at the same time in the same way, or that’s my theory.

It’s the pervasive stuff I’m talking about. We hold onto the old ways far longer than seems practical, although sometimes the old ways are actually the best ones. Can’t discount that.

And this is all idle speculation about other people, most of whose lives I only glimpse. I’m the only one who matters in all of this musing.

I’ve said for years that I really enjoy the Christian season of Lent, and how I think a secular version would be a good thing for us all to adopt. A few weeks every year, toward the end of winter, when we all make a point to divest ourselves of the old habits and behaviors that are getting in our way. Could be simple. Could be life-changing. It’s really not about giving up chocolate, although people are funny.

This has been on my mind a lot during the pandemic. And not just my mind; it’s an obvious opportunity, a national time-out, a breather even if literal breathing is sometimes a concern.

I actually got away from some good habits, which is also a thing. Exercise and nutrition took a hit, and I can’t be the only one.

The reason I brought up my father-in-law was because he had that funny way of people of that era. It was all stereotypical, nothing unusual; he just carried a wad of cash everywhere, and he really liked sales. A sale on bananas or grapes got him pretty excited. He remembered growing up poor. It’s not a hard grasp.

He loosened up toward the end. He even got cable eventually, at some point in the late 1990s I think. But he squeezed his nickels and he wasn’t alone, and while I’m all about frugality and how less is more, I think he could have lightened up a little. He wasn’t poor anymore.

I’m not criticizing; it worked out well, and he certainly came to my rescue many times with that bulging wallet. It was something to joke about, to tease him a little about those poor nickels.

That powerful overlay of learned behavior is what’s on my mind, though. I’ve been on a pretty rocky emotional journey during this, as I assume everyone else has, but I was also very busy and mostly content, bored sometimes but generally in a good mood. I had a job and I felt useful.

Now that things have slowed down and I have more time, though, I’m trying to figure out what I’ve learned.

Comfort has been big. Appreciating comfort, particularly simple comfort, has been eye opening. I’ve begun to appreciate what gives me pleasure and joy without second-guessing the appropriateness of it (sounds like I’m watching porn; I just meant there are dumb books and movies and shows that I’ve really been enjoying without feeling the need to justify).

But there are other things, and I’m just catching up. Relationships have also been important to reconsider – I’ve been as desperate as anyone for human connection, and as aware as anyone about the limitations and dangers and distorted reality of social media interactions. Still, it was the only game in town.

And I definitely learned that certain friends and I have grown way apart. With Covid alone, I’ve seen how some people behave and apparently have a quite different understanding about public health. We’ve all seen it. Some of those people I’m less interested in now, and I imagine for the future. People change, and sometimes they don’t and our eyes just eventually widen.

It’s mostly about internal things, though, personal things. I really don’t know how I feel about the undergirding of this nation that I’ve always adored. There was always something sinister and dark down there, always seeping into our society at different points, and I guess I trusted that it was contained and always would be addressed.

And I still believe in the essential goodness of most people, but even good people take their eye off the ball and I’m not sure we recover. I’m still an optimist. I’m a little more clear-eyed.

But there are lots of other things, more personal. My feelings about all sorts of things have evolved and sometimes flipped. I’ve felt for years that I’ve had maybe an irregular but a fulfilling spiritual life, and I don’t really see that changing, but how I go about practicing that is a big question going forward.

Other things. I have a lot of questions, not many answers, and obviously we still have an uncertain future.

But duh. It’s always uncertain. It’s how I go about entering what remains of it that’s on my mind.