The pandemic has been hard, no doubt, full stop.

Our country hadn’t dealt with this level of worldwide pandemic for decades and an airborne virus that spreads quickly was very dangerous. Depending on your own situation, you may have viewed that danger differently than others. Many of those with underlying medical conditions, or those who were above a certain age, took this virus quite seriously. Some of those in a younger demographic seemed less concerned with catching or carrying it to others. Over time though a general consensus was understood, even if it wasn’t universally adhered to.

Most people, especially in our region, accepted that indoors masking and social distancing was the safest way to interact if you were willing to go out. Most people also accepted that outdoors you can be unmasked though social distancing or masking in a crowd is still a good idea. Finally, most agreed that if you get exposed, stay home and quarantine, and get tested before resuming a life in public. Did everyone adhere to that consensus? No, but everyone was aware that this was the general consensus, even if they didn’t follow it.

Many people have asked the question: when can we go back to normal? Today, my answer has changed, today my answer is right now.

Please know, I don’t come to this answer lightly. I have a family to think about — a family that consists of my incredible wife (who has the immune system of a Dickensian orphan) and an infant son who lights up both of our worlds. Alexander is a pandemic baby, born eight months ago and my wife and I tried for him for over seven years. When Beth was pregnant we weren’t sure if she could take the vaccine (she did in her final trimester).

She was working from home while pregnant, and staying away from crowds, so if it were to come into our home, I’d likely be the carrier. There’s a tremendous weight to daily interactions when the cost is so great. However, I managed to dodge the invisible bullets and we didn’t have our first scare until the fall. My aunt was hospitalized after a long, joyful life of little compromise and many memories. I was taking weekly trips to Augusta to visit her, and during a visitation shift change, I hugged my sister-in-law, and spoke with her for two minutes. The next day she texted me from the school she teaches at, telling me that she had tested positive.

I went home. Told my wife and my three-month-old and waited five long days to get a test. It was negative. I went about my life- but a bit more cautiously.

I share that story not because it is unique, but because it’s relatable. You likely have a similar story- or maybe it went worse for you. I was one of those who lost sleep worrying about what pox I may have brought into our home. Maybe you lost much more than just sleep.

Many of us have been shaken by this persistent virus, and we don’t want to risk anymore to it. Perhaps that’s even your default state now. Once you have secured the sterile safety that disengagement can provide, you may be reluctant to rejoin the groups and activities that you knew before. Sometimes it’s easier to live life through your screens so you can look upon, without being looked upon. But that’s not living a life, that’s lonely voyeurism.

There is too much life to live to let it wash by you any longer.

Don’t you miss the buzz of an excited crowd when 80 friends are immersed in 27 different conversations, all holding court in three-person juries while spilling beer on sticky shoe tops and laughing to the rafters? I felt that last week at Sea Dog Brewing during our Chamber After Hours, and a week later my ears are still ringing from the joy of engaging with those people.

It’s no different than the scent of burning logs in a metal kettle wafting through downtown as crackling flames gooey the marshmallow and chocolate of a perfect S’more at last weekend’s first Bath Winterfest. It’s seeing the rosy-cheeked full-toothed smiles of mothers and sons as they pose for their picture with a Yeti. It’s a little girl who will come back to Bath in 20 years and talk about how her family brought her to the first Winterfest two decades prior.

It’s attending a dinner next Friday at St. John’s Community Center where 100 or so business leaders will hear about the Chamber workforce programs that will fundamentally change how our region addresses workforce needs over the next decade.

It’s celebrating at the largest event space in Brunswick tomorrow night at Wild Oats as the Brunswick Downtown Association tells you what events you can’t miss this summer.

It’s seeing the perfect azure in the skyline of one of the vibrant paintings in the new Brunswick Welcome Center that I visited last week and meeting the artist who created that piece to make our region feel more like home for those who are new to town.

It’s life. And it’s happening all around us. You can’t hear a photograph or smell an Instagram post. You can only do that in person.

It’s scary getting back out there. It’s hard to embrace it. So if it takes a while for you to feel comfortable unmasked, then stay masked. Stay masked for years if you want. But don’t let it stop you from living life.

You don’t have to handshake or hug if you don’t feel comfortable. Give a fist bump. Or an elbow tap. Or a firm nod (downward). Or a friendly nod (upward).

Do whatever you need to do to feel comfortable out, but start engaging again. It’s time. There is too much happening in our region and I don’t want you to miss another memory.

Cory King is the executive director of the Southern Midcoast Maine Chamber.