I postmortem each month shortly after it ends, reflecting on what happened in general and, more specifically, in the context of my goals. Though I don’t share all my insights here, I have made it a practice to share at least one key highlight or insight. (To read previous months’ reviews, click here.)

The year has made staying positive increasingly difficult.

The protests in the United States over yet another senseless murder of a black man just got started at the end of May. I feel profound and speechless rage that it has taken this much pain and suffering from such a large group of citizens for so many centuries to get other people in the United States of America finally angry enough to stand up against systemic and continued injustice within a country that pretends to stand for “equality and justice for all.” I worry that achieving justice will require so much more pain and suffering from this same group of abused people; I do not believe that the current protests will be enough end the ongoing wrongs. I see too many people pretending to care and not following through with action.

Even worse, I fear that justice and equality will never arrive.

I’ll let the protests feature in my June 2020 month-in-review. When May 2020 arrived, though racism prevailed as it always has in the United States, the protests hadn’t yet begun. The coronavirus still had worldwide focus, and it tinged my month just as it did the months of many other people in varying levels of extremity. (For a deeper dive on COVID-19’s effects on the first part of 2020, I point you to my coronavirus diaries.)

Business Development: Calls, E-mails, Social Posts, Repeat

As with every year, I had business-development goals for FrogDog in 2020. This year, I’d planned aggressive and creative new sales activity. However, unsurprisingly, the global pandemic and its associated economic downturn have caused ongoing strain on these efforts.

In May, though few companies felt comfortable spending funds (if they had them to spend), I spent a considerable amount of time each day in personal outreach to my network. I’ve made hundreds of calls and sent hundreds of e-mails each week to see who has the budget needed to come out of this crisis. (For any company to spring back, it will need marketing. The question: What companies have the budgets needed to get the help needed?)

I didn’t expect a high number of sales wins in May; I centered my focus on generating conversations that could bear fruit in the months ahead, as people begin to look up, dust off, and set plans.

I hope I’ve succeeded.

Creativity: Silence

Other than the coronavirus diaries, I haven’t felt much by way of creative inspiration.

The continued stress and uncertainty of the COVID-19 crisis and the economic downturn made creativity difficult. Despite the need to stay home more than ever, I didn’t have a magical amount of extra time to spend on writing due to professional obligations. In the limited time that I did have to get away from work, all the ideas I had before 2020 looked hollow to me.

I haven’t touched my novel in months. I haven’t made more than lackluster efforts on my Stakes project this year. I haven’t had much energy for this website.

New project ideas, which have surprised me by bubbling up on occasion during this period of stress, look as pale as the old project ideas as soon as they reach the page.

Calendars: Blank

Though I’d planned trips and activities in 2020—including simple pursuits, like trying snowshoeing again—the year hasn’t facilitated many of these adventures.

We don’t have even a casual gathering with friends planned, much less a weekend away or a proper vacation.

I can’t recall the last time I had nothing on the calendar. The trip we’d planned to celebrate Arnaud’s mother’s birthday should have happened in mid-May, yet the virus cancelled it. Upon deleting the birthday-trip calendar appointment, I saw nothing in the months ahead but work.

I have no idea when we’ll have the opportunity to schedule things again.

However, I will schedule fun things again, and it won’t take too many more weeks before I do. I know this. Meanwhile, I live in a beautiful part of the world where I can take daily walks among the trees and along the lakefront. Each day, I feel very lucky. That having nothing fun on the calendar feels peculiar shows me my good fortune—even if it doesn’t help my sense of sustained doldrums.

Hang in there, my friends.