Living in Fortunate Times
by Francine Dash
April 2025
It might sound paradoxical to call the current era fortunate, especially in the wake of a global pandemic that redefined human life. Yet, in reflecting on the sweeping mental health and social impacts of COVID-19, we begin to uncover truths not only about suffering but also about resilience, adaptation, and collective growth. The pandemic exposed vulnerabilities in our systems, minds, and societies, but it also ignited innovation, compassion, and a reevaluation of what truly matters. To live in fortunate times is not to live without hardship, but to live in an era where change is possible—and deeply needed.
The Storm That Shook the World
The arrival of COVID-19 in early 2020 rapidly transformed from a regional outbreak to a global catastrophe. It shuttered economies, isolated individuals, overwhelmed healthcare systems, and upended daily routines. In North America, a region accustomed to access, mobility, and global influence, the effects were immediate and jarring. Lockdowns, masks, remote work, and social distancing became the norm, while fear and uncertainty blanketed the population.
Across the world, the impact varied by geography, economy, and governance, but the psychological shockwaves reverberated universally. Grief, fear, loneliness, and anxiety became shared emotional landscapes, crossing borders, languages, and cultures.
A Mental Health Reckoning
Before COVID-19, mental health was already a pressing concern. However, the pandemic exacerbated the issue, dragging it from the shadows into the harsh light of everyday reality. In North America, depression, anxiety, substance use, and suicide rates increased significantly during the height of the pandemic. The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) reported that in June 2020, 40% of U.S. adults struggled with mental health or substance use, with younger adults and marginalized communities disproportionately affected.
Globally, similar patterns emerged. The World Health Organization (WHO) identified a 25% increase in the prevalence of anxiety and depression worldwide. Factors such as isolation, loss of income, fear of infection, and grief due to the death of loved ones created a mental health crisis that no continent escaped.
Yet within this crisis was also an awakening.
Digital Transformation in Mental Healthcare
Perhaps one of the most significant shifts was the rapid expansion of digital mental health services. In North America, the swift move to telehealth made therapy and counseling more accessible than ever before, especially for those in rural or underserved areas. Apps, online support groups, and virtual consultations became lifelines. Mental health, once stigmatized and under-discussed, found itself central to national conversations.
Globally, nations with varying levels of technological infrastructure adapted quickly, though not always evenly. In some developing countries, digital access remained limited, and the absence of in-person services deepened existing mental health disparities. Still, grassroots and community-led efforts often filled gaps where formal systems failed, showcasing the resilience of human connection in times of need.
The Power of Collective Trauma
Psychologists often refer to "collective trauma" as a phenomenon where entire communities or societies experience a traumatic event simultaneously. COVID-19 fits this description perhaps more than any event in recent history. From the affluent neighborhoods of Toronto to the crowded streets of Mumbai, humanity collectively confronted its own fragility.
Collective trauma can be both damaging and transformative. It challenges assumptions about safety, normalcy, and trust, but it also creates opportunities for communal healing. Shared grief often brings people together, fostering empathy and interdependence.
In North America, this was seen in the rise of mutual aid networks, neighborhood support groups, and increased donations to mental health organizations. Globally, countries shared data, vaccines, and strategies in unprecedented collaborations, reminding us that in crises, solidarity becomes not just noble, but necessary.
The Unequal Burden
Despite the rhetoric of a "shared experience," it is essential to acknowledge that the pandemic was not experienced equally. COVID-19 illuminated and intensified pre-existing social, racial, and economic inequalities.
In North America, Black, Indigenous, and People of Color (BIPOC) communities were disproportionately affected. These groups faced higher infection and death rates, largely due to systemic inequities such as crowded living conditions, frontline occupations, and limited access to healthcare. Mental health impacts were similarly skewed, with structural racism contributing to heightened psychological stress and barriers to care.
Women around the world bore the brunt of unpaid care work, domestic violence surged under lockdowns, and children—especially those from low-income families—suffered educational setbacks and increased isolation. For many, the home was not a sanctuary but a site of danger or deprivation.
To live in fortunate times, then, is to live with the awareness of these disparities and to commit to correcting them. The pandemic has offered an uncomfortable mirror, reflecting the uneven landscape of human dignity and care.
The Shifting Social Fabric
COVID-19 not only disrupted individual lives but also reshaped societal norms and values. In North America, the rise of remote work and hybrid education redefined what it means to be productive. Families reconnected or strained under the weight of proximity. Friendships and social rituals were tested by distance and digital substitution.
Across cultures, ceremonies like weddings, funerals, and religious gatherings were canceled, postponed, or radically altered. Yet even as old structures faltered, new ones emerged. Drive-by birthdays, Zoom reunions, balcony concerts, and online prayer groups became symbols of ingenuity and adaptation.
In some ways, the pandemic accelerated cultural trends already in motion: technological integration, the gig economy, and the questioning of work-life balance. For others, it was a wake-up call to slow down, reassess priorities, and center well-being.
Youth in the Crosshairs
One of the most heartbreaking effects of the pandemic has been on children and young adults. School closures, lack of social interaction, and the uncertainty of the future created a mental health emergency among youth. In the U.S., emergency room visits for suspected suicide attempts among adolescents rose significantly in 2021 compared to 2019.
Globally, the educational and emotional toll has been profound, with millions of students left behind, especially in regions without remote learning infrastructure. But young people also demonstrated remarkable resilience. From activism and peer support to creative expression and adaptation, the youth became not just victims of the crisis but also leaders in recovery.
Grief, Meaning, and Post-Traumatic Growth
In the wake of loss, people often search for meaning. The pandemic forced millions to confront death—whether that of a loved one, a job, a way of life, or even their sense of certainty. Grief, as a psychological process, became globalized. But so too did the potential for post-traumatic growth, a concept referring to positive psychological change following adversity.
In North America and beyond, many reported newfound clarity on values, greater appreciation for life, and deeper connections to others. This doesn't erase the pain, but it reframes it. The seeds of transformation are often buried in the soil of suffering.
Spiritual and philosophical reflections increased. Some turned to faith, others to mindfulness or nature. The search for purpose became a silent pandemic in itself—one that, if honored, could reshape the trajectory of mental health for years to come.
The Role of Leadership and Public Trust
Governments and institutions were tested like never before. Public trust became a fragile yet critical component in the collective response to the pandemic. In North America, polarized responses to vaccines, masks, and lockdowns exposed deep rifts in political and cultural identity.
Globally, responses ranged from transparent and community-driven to authoritarian and secretive. Where leaders communicated clearly and compassionately, citizens often responded with cooperation and resilience. Where leadership failed, conspiracy theories, distrust, and mental distress flourished.
The lesson? Mental health is not just a personal issue—it is deeply tied to social structures, leadership, and the public narrative.
Living in Fortunate Times
So why call this era fortunate? Because in the ashes of loss, we have also found the embers of awakening.
- Mental health is now recognized as essential health.
- Communities have proven their ability to mobilize with compassion.
- Conversations once deemed taboo—about grief, trauma, isolation—are now normalized.
- The fragility of our systems has revealed the urgent need for equity and reform.
We are living in fortunate times because we have the tools, technologies, and collective awareness to do better—mentally, socially, and globally. This is a unique moment in human history where we can choose how to rebuild, how to care, and how to live not just for survival, but for wholeness.
The Road Ahead
The post-pandemic world is still unfolding. Many are still grieving, still healing, and still struggling. The long-term mental health consequences will need sustained attention, funding, and innovation. But there is hope.
In North America, investment in mental health infrastructure is rising. Youth-led initiatives are pushing for inclusive policies. Employers are rethinking workplace wellness. Globally, the momentum toward mental health justice is gaining strength, with mental well-being increasingly seen as a human right.
To honor those we lost, to heal from what we endured, and to thrive in the years ahead, we must remember the lessons of this moment: that mental health is collective, that care is powerful, and that we are never truly alone.
Yes, these are fortunate times—not because they are easy, but because they call us to grow. And in that call, there is a kind of grace.