As part of the Herald's Great Minds series on mental wellbeing, psychotherapist Kyle MacDonald looks at how we can recalibrate after the pandemic and work out what happiness means for us in 2022.
There's an important idea at the heart of psychotherapy - therapy isn't about "curing" someone, it's aboutbeing able to see the whole truth of the matter - to perceive the reality of our experience as accurately as possible.
This might sound simple, but so much of what gets us into trouble as human beings is the way our emotions cloud - or even distort beyond recognition - our perceptions.
And oh boy, have the past two years been hard emotionally.
From the fear of near-global lockdowns in early 2020, to the frustrations and conflict of the protests of early 2022, the ongoing ups and downs of various waves of Covid intrusions across our borders, and of course navigating those tricky vaccination conversations with friends and families.
Not to mention keeping up with all the rules. It's little wonder some want to simply declare the pandemic "over" and party like it's 2019 - while others long for level 4 lockdowns and the feeling of safety and security such measures offered.
Neither of these extremes are particularly helpful. And neither represent our current reality. In between those two ideas is the truth. There's also enough room in between those two extremes that how we choose to respond might even be different for each of us.
It's human nature to look for - or even create - certainty and stability as a way to feel safe and secure, but unfortunately life very rarely offers us this, and even less so over the past two years. And declaring the pandemic over is not the solution it seems, because it simply isn't over.
But it's also unlikely the next couple of years will look like the past two.
Here in Aotearoa we are now more protected from serious illness and death courtesy of our high levels of vaccination. We also understand more about the way the virus works, and spreads, and as such value good ventilation, the relative safety of being outdoors alongside recognising the risks associated with being in crowded, poorly ventilated, indoor spaces.
On the other hand, we're now free to make our own risk decisions, as the most restrictive of Government rules and mandates are withdrawn. To decide for ourselves as individuals, families and communities what our appetite for risk is.
So how do we decide? And how do we balance the anxieties that may linger with increased choice, and tolerate the increased pressure - from some quarters - to just get on with it?
A long time ago now, long before anyone had ever said the words to me "you're on mute!" I recall reading that the best predictor of good mental health is the ability to be flexible. I'm not sure that's ever been more true.
Flexibility to keep rolling with the changes and to tolerate the unpredictable requires a high level of acceptance to see clearly what is, and the ability to make effective choices about what the best responses are.
If you've ever been involved in a large-scale project, say a house renovation or a creative project you'll know that it's the endless decisions that are exhausting - and psychologically it's recognised as a thing.
It's also true that our fear responses - anxiety in other words - have an inbuilt ability to get "stuck" and then be hard to unwind. It's better that way from the point of survival, if you want to live long enough to breed it's better for our fears to generalise and not miss things that might kill us.
This makes recalibrating our fears when threats recede a challenge, and even more so when the threat lasts two years and counting!
So how do we deal with all of this? What does the next phase of the pandemic look like, from an emotional health point of view?
How do we generate more flexibility, avoid overwhelming ourselves with decision fatigue and recalibrate our anxiety?
Well, we start by keeping our own side of the street clean, and focusing on what we can control. It's been too easy - even since the early curtain-twitching days of the level 4 lockdowns - to get way too het up about what other folks are doing, or not doing.
So we start by getting clear about what levels of risk we're going to tolerate, and why. This might be different if you have small children who are too young to be vaccinated, live with those who are immunocompromised or who are otherwise more likely to get seriously ill. It sucks that you may need to make different choices, but it is the reality.
If you're young, healthy, and up to date with your vaccinations, then you're more likely to make a different set of risk decisions - or maybe not. Either way, you do have the freedom to decide if you want to go to more high-risk environments like gym classes, bars or generally wear a mask only when you "have to".
As family units, whānau or extended bubbles, we need to make sure we talk about what activities or social engagements you feel comfortable with and generally try to be inclusive. Because when we raise the risk bar too high then we exclude those who are more vulnerable.
But it's also important that if we can't follow through on our plans and decisions about risk because of anxiety - fear that's misplaced - then we need to work on challenging ourselves. Nothing recalibrates anxiety like acting opposite to it when we act in the rational knowledge we are relatively safe.
And make sure you only take risks for things that matter. And for all of us it's likely the most important thing right now is reconnecting with each other - in the real world - where there is no mute button and we are required to actually change out of our pyjamas.
Even if sometimes that means tolerating the discomfort (acceptance, remember team) of wearing a mask to protect those more vulnerable than ourselves.
But perhaps most importantly - and to be fair it's always the golden rule: "Don't be a dick."
Don't decide you need to tell someone else to take their mask off, or peer pressure your friends into going out if they're not ready to do so yet.
But on the flip side - as long as people are sticking to rules - don't judge others for taking more risks than you're willing to.
Don't whinge if people want you to "do a RAT" (another phrase that would've meant something very different in 2019) before you spend the weekend staying somewhere together.
Accept with good grace that people may still want to wear a mask around you - and that parents might still want their kids to wear a mask at school - or the kids themselves may even request it.
Because it is also time to start working hardest of all on cooling down the conflict about things that we are now starting to move past.
Before vaccine mandates were a thing, before most of us had ever heard of public health orders, it was still possible to have friends we disagree with. And even though it's one of those things people like me say you should never say: maybe most of all we need to calm down a bit, and take a breath.