Here’s a prediction:

We aren’t going to learn anything from the pandemic. We aren’t going to rebuild our grocery stores and community spaces to prevent overcrowding. We aren’t going to maintain social distancing, but rather celebrate when we can pack into buses, trains, and planes all over again. In fact, I almost guarantee you that we’ll see some kind of advertisement that tells us to “Sit in the middle seat and celebrate the return of normal!”

For years I’ve dealt with miserable travel conditions, pedestrians bumping into me on the sidewalk, crowded businesses, and more. And now we’re seeing how awful those conditions were, but I’m guessing that not much is going to change.

I’m not trying to be cynical here. I just think it’s obvious. We’re in really weird, divided times and I don’t think we’ll come out of this any better than we were before. It’s a shame really because you’d think this could be a real opportunity for progress.

Since big changes seem really unrealistic, the real goal should be for us to come out of this better as individuals. I, for one, have already made changes in my life that I hope will last long after this is over.

For example, I’m not as rushed to tackle my work any more. Since I know people understand that times are weird and things take longer right now, I use it as an excuse to only check my e-mail once a day and limit any work to 2-3 hours. My bookings are still consistent, even though I’m limiting time spent in the office.

I’m trying not to be “on call” either. I used to drop everything at a moment’s notice to respond to an e-mail or call a new client. Now I refuse to give out my cell number and I only set up a call if absolutely necessary. It seems like social media, texting, and instant communication has trained us all to be readily available at a moment’s notice, but I’m not a fan.

Moving forward I also want my live shows to mirror my virtual ones. I don’t mean the material, I mean the feel of doing them. When I do a virtual show everything is set up and ready to go. I simply walk in to the other room, turn on the lights and camera, and do the show. It’s like having my own theater in Las Vegas. The props are in place, the audience is waiting, and I only focus on doing a good job. I’m still figuring out how to mimic that feeling for live shows but there has to be a way.

Also, the past six months of virtual gigs have really taught me a lot about connecting with an audience. I almost feel like my virtual shows have gotten better than my live ones. There’s a calmness to the virtual shows that a stage show doesn’t have. I’m meeting people on their level, talking to them casually like they’re a human being and not just an object onstage. I’m following a loose script but mostly I’m actively listening to them and genuinely trying to create a meaningful connection. Sometimes you get so caught up with the production of a live show that you forget to make an impact on a personal level. It’s a good reminder of what matters most.

I’m also trying to stop working so much. I saw a magazine at the store the other day that said “7 Ways To Be More Productive On Your Commute!” Society tells us to constantly be working, to maximize our time, and never waste a second. Why? 2020 has been a horrible year and the pandemic has brought misery into millions of lives, but if there’s any positive it’s that we’ve had to pause the rat race and focus on what’s really important. The last thing I care about is a new tip on how to maximize my output.

It’s been months since I made a to-do list. Once I settled into the flow of online work I decided to focus on my perfect day and nothing else. Turns out my perfect day doesn’t involve making cold calls, networking, creating a content calendar, or any of that other stuff I used to be doing. My perfect day is a cup of coffee with my wife, a writing project, and a good book or film to end the day. When things get back to normal — whatever that may mean — I’m going to remind myself that that’s all I really need.

These are just a few of the many ways I’m trying to improve myself during this strange time and I plan on making these changes permanent. BUT, my prediction still stands. So, a year from now when you’re standing shoulder-to-shoulder on a train just to sit in a packed, sold out theater to see my show, at least you’ll be seeing a new me, a better version of myself. MT 2.0.

And I’ll be sure to remind you that “I told you so” . . . in more ways than one.