re·ful·gence | \ ri-ˈfu̇l-jən(t)
: a radiant or resplendent quality or state : BRILLIANCE

In March 2020, I closed my door. With my small dog, I hid from the danger of the outside world. 

Just months earlier, I had crawled through a major depressive episode. I’d lost my belief in the things I held as foundations: trust, kindness and loyalty. By the time Covid hit, I had healed just enough to know that my lack of self-care and my relentless work life were as dangerous and destructive as the pandemic itself. 

For the next 16 months, I observed strict Covid protocols. I shuttered my small business, lived off savings, signed up for virtual classes and lectures and cocktail date Zoom calls. I wore a mask and gloves. I applied for loans. 

Very early on, I started playing a game: judging exclusively by the color and placement of light on my walls, how close could I get to accurate time-keeping? 

The birdsong outside my windows became more confident and more prominent. I heard bird conversations on the ledges. 

I learned that light is the antidote to trauma. And I chased it. I embraced it. I wrapped myself — literally — in light and allowed this pause in my life to become a life-altering reset. 

In April and May 2021 I was vaccinated. I cried as the second shot went in, and the volunteer nurse asked if I am afraid of needles. No, I said, I am overwhelmed by miracles. 

Variants continue to come and go. Sometimes it is safe to emerge…with caution. Sometimes, it feels dangerous still. A world, newly seen and felt, beckons. Nothing is the same and everything has changed. 

The zine of this work, Refulgence: A Covid Memoir, is available for sale