THE NEW NORMAL

THE NEW NORMAL
Learning to Live in the Space Love Left Behind
Personal Story by Elizabeth Blake-Thomas

​We can plan, organize and arrange our schedule and still life throws curveballs. Let me explain. 2026 is a new beginning. The expectation that many of us put on ourselves is to be able to start afresh at the beginning of the year and put in place new ideals and ways of doing things. But sometimes we have absolutely no control over the external elements that take place. The only thing we can control is our reactions and how we feel and respond to them.

Life isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. In all honesty, I believe we were led by a bit of a lie. When I was younger, I wanted to be older. When I didn’t have any money, I wanted to earn lots. When I didn’t have a job, I wanted one. This is the grass-is-greener phenomenon. The irony of everything that we think we want can be misleading. So how about we sit in the “now”? What does that feel like? Can we also just be totally present in the moment? Or is there a happy medium and this just means doing the best we can?

The reason I’m asking all these questions is not because I’m having a midlife crisis (again, another lie we are told we have, sounds negative, right?). Actually, it’s a natural thing to question where you’re at in your life and how you want to live the rest of it. We become aware of time going quicker and getting shorter. Maybe people around us pass away, or maybe we have life-changing moments that occur, like a divorce. So questioning how we live is ok. I give you permission to take a look at the life you have and consider if this is how you want to be living right now and for the rest of the year. Let’s rename it and call it “A mid life transformation.” This is so powerful. You also don’t need to have it at mid life, this might happen every few years. It’s important to allow yourself to check in with the way your life looks every few years.

The only certainty we have is death. We just don’t know when it’s going to happen. So, imagine living every day like it’s your last. What would that look like?

Chai, my best friend and four-legged partner, decided to leave me in her physical form 6 months ago. The shock of her passing caused me to reassess my life and how I want to lead it. All our plans for the next five years disappeared in a poof of smoke. I was unable to live the life I had planned with her.

Many people have commented,
“Are things going back to how they were?”,
“Am I feeling better?”,
“Everything will be the same soon.”

But I don’t want that, and that’s ok. Things will never be the same. This was a moment in time, a thirteen-year incredible love story. I now need to look at this life in a different way. I need to work out what my new normal will be. I’m going to take my starting point from Chai. I’m going to continue her legacy in my life. She deserves that.

So what did Chai teach me? That’s the first thing to look at. Chai would wake each morning and stretch, go out for fresh air and head to the bathroom, smelling and looking at everything, just taking in the world. She would eat her home-cooked vegan food (which she loved), then she would rest, maybe taking a nap. Then we would head out for the day, and during that time she would walk, rest, listen, watch, smell, utilizing all her senses. Then the day was over and she would know it was time to end, eat her final vegan meal and have kisses and hugs and just allow herself to wash away the day ready to start a new one. Now that sounds pretty good to me.

So the lessons I’m taking from this are to live like Chai. My new normal is to live like Chai. Her legacy lives on, and she deserves to still be present in everything I do and think about. She changed my life and I am so grateful for that.

What does my New Normal look like? My new normal is that I get up in the morning, I no longer have to make her vegan food, but I do still check her water bowl is full. I take her from my chest (her ashes in her bag), where she slept all night, and place her with her teddy squirrel on her chair. If Isabella isn’t in, then she comes with me in her bag, but if Isabella is there, I leave her on her chair, which is as it was when she was here in physical form. I head out for my walk. Once I return from my walk, I miss being greeted by her and hearing her barking at me as if I’ve been gone for days. My day begins at a much sadder, slower pace. I don’t consider her bag that will match my outfit anymore. I don’t consider taking her to the loo and how long I need to be gone and packing up her lunch and packing everything that she will need for the day.

I will either work from home a lot more than ever before, or I will head to one of two places, the Soho House houses. This is where I sit, and the people I haven’t seen for awhile will comment and come up to me and remind me of my loss. Or I will sit there quietly doing my work with her in my bag (her ashes in her bag) next to me as she always was. She always came with me in a bag, and so I will continue to take her in a bag.

I no longer need to get up halfway through my day and take her out. Nobody stops and talks to me and asks me about Chai. Nobody begins a conversation with me because of Chai. It’s a much more melancholic way of living and I sit and think about her all the time. I have her photos with me and I have her with me, and I try to keep my smile on all day long because otherwise it gets too hard.

She would love arriving at Soho House and would bark in the car to greet everybody. Her excitement was always there because she knew I was happy and she felt like we were going to work together. We did everything together. We were a 2! For her to no longer be part of that brings me deep sadness.

When I arrive home, I do not need to feed her. She no longer sits in the kitchen waiting for something to fall on the floor. She no longer lies on the sofa wanting to be hugged, tired from her day of work, and we no longer have to go for a little walk with her. My day is sad. At the end of it, I have nobody to kiss good night or hug.

For those that know me, know I have an incredible daughter, Isabella, she is amazing and kind and thoughtful, and she lives her life, and we give each other a hug that used to be a family of three. We would literally say “family hug,” with Chai barking if I hugged Isabella first, and now I just give Isabella a hug and we hug each other knowing what’s missing from that hug, knowing the other heartbeat that is no longer with us.

I lie ready to go to sleep to begin my next day without her, and this is all part of the new normal, the cycle. Each day I have to decide whether I’m brave enough to do things without her. Am I ok with this routine? It’s not as fun. It doesn’t bring me as much joy. I don’t dress in the same way that I did with her. I don’t eat in the same way and I don’t have the same routine that I had.

It has altered my pattern of life because she was the reason I did things. The decisions now on whether my routine continues or whether I consider going to events always comes down to still considering Chai. I ask myself, “Would I have gone with her?” She still helps me make those decisions. Everything has become a very different experience.

​Everyone who knew Chai has been so thoughtful and kind because they all loved Chai. She was part of the family. She was part of me, and not having her in my right arm feels empty. Every day a piece of me is missing.

The laughter has lessened, the joy has depleted. The purpose has dissipated, the reason for me to do what I was going to do, to plan the life that I was going to have, was for Chai and I. My life in LA has never been without Chai.

My new normal feels more like a hamster wheel. The irony of somebody saying you have more time now you don’t have Chai and you’re more flexible. I was never home with Chai. It’s a very different new normal. The silence is deafening.

So take the pressure off yourself to think that life is going to run smoothly, or that the plan will work. To think that things will go back to “normal,” they won’t and that's ok. Just be and feel, and don’t worry if things change and cause disruption. Allow life to create its natural ebb and flow and work out what’s right for you. Create your New Normal however long that might take. ∎

ELIZABETH BLAKE-THOMAS
Storyteller, Philanthropist & Official Ambassador for Human Trafficking Awareness
www.awarenowmedia.com/elizabethblakethomas 

Elizabeth Blake-Thomas is a British award-winning storyteller and philanthropist based in Los Angeles. She is the founder and resident director of entertainment company Mother & Daughter Entertainment, whose motto is “Making Content That Matters”, putting focus on each project starting a conversation amongst viewers. She is also the creator of the healing methodology Medicine with Words which is designed to help “spring clean” your mind and help free yourself from unnecessary noise so that you can live a more purposeful, peaceful life. She is the author of Filmmaking Without Fear which is a multi-medium resource curated for indie filmmakers. Her FWF podcast is available on all streaming platforms, and the book of the same name is available on Amazon. She is a regular on panels at Sundance, Cannes and Toronto International Film Festival, Elizabeth mentors wherever possible, ensuring she sends the elevator back down to all other female storytellers.