The Exquisite Joy of Being Known

“You live!”

The woman with the firecracker pixie cut did a double take and bounded for me. We couldn’t remember each other’s names — just the joy of reconnecting after more than four years. After a whole pandemic. After the world changed.

I almost cried in Zumba. Again.

It was my third class back after four and a half years away. During the first class back, I teared up at how good it felt to move with other people, to clap and stomp and swerve in time. Solitary exercise was never my jam.

Until this class though, I hadn’t seen any of my Zumba ladies. The women I had shimmied and sweated with for years beforehand. The women who congregated with me on the left side of the room, sharing small news updates before and after class. M worked concessions for the Sacramento Kings. I remembered she told me how bullet proof her thighs became once the Kings moved to the new arena which had much steeper steps apparently. Willowy K had shared how she and her husband took long bike trips together. J showed pictures of her daughter in Belgium and the two adorable grandbabies.

That morning, I ran into all of them and nearly burst into tears realizing how worried I’d been. In the midmorning group fitness classes, thanks to my flexible work schedule, I’d always been one of the youngest — dancing, kickboxing, and stretching next to women decades my senior. During the pandemic, I wondered regularly — as I did for a number of my casual acquaintances at the eateries, coffee shops, and stores I used to frequent — how they fared during the years of devastating illness that took so many people far too soon. It’s hard to describe the relief and joy I felt at seeing a handful of old casual friends hale and hearty. And the intense happiness of being remembered, too.

The experience called to mind a 2021 Atlantic article “The Pandemic has Erased Entire Categories of Friendship,” which discusses the consequences of losing casual friends and “weak ties.” Without acquaintances, people feel less connected to their communities, more isolated and lonely, and are more at risk of psychological and health repercussions. That certainly resonates for me as years later, I’m still surprised by the results of pandemic-shifted habits. For instance, I’m no longer a “regular” anywhere as I stopped going to coffee shops to write during the lockdown and never got back into the habit.

Coming back to Zumba and being known, even by a small handful of people, has been such an immense delight. (And not to mention motivating, knowing I’ll be missed!)

After a few more classes, I’ve learned that M is still working concessions, although for a different sports franchise. She brings caramel corn to class every so often. K still enjoys a good bike ride and talks about retirement so fondly, my teeth ache from envy some days. J’s grandkids are fully out of baby territory. And we’re all still dancing.

Cross-posted to Medium.com