Here we are. Day 1 of the scary disaster movie style new way of life. My youngest is doing a physics lesson online with her classmates and I am sat here in sweaty running gear, wondering if there is any point in showering and applying make-up. I look like Catweazle (old fogey alert) after a bad night today.
I passed through town on my run. It was deserted. Many of the shops were shut and Pret was offering takeaway only. “We may have to close,” I was told.
“What??? My life isn’t worth living without good coffee,” I wailed somewhat dramatically.
The good news is, I elbow bumped a friend on the riverside. She’s working from home and we’ve agreed to walk and chat together in the mornings, two metres apart of course! I don’t know about you, but I am a people person and in all seriousness, life without human contact feels like an awful prospect.
I had a group call with my spiritual mentor Marion last night, who read a passage from a book, outlining that this chapter in our history was meant to be. It’s part of our evolution and through the pain, we will evolve and become a better society. It’s how I see it too. This will no doubt be one of the most difficult situations my generation has had to face, but I believe that everything must fall apart for it to be rebuilt in a healthier way.
I wish it didn’t have to be like this, I really do, because there are going to be unavoidable casualties – healthwise, economically , mentally etc, but we are not in control of this thing. There is nothing we can do about it other than avoid spreading germs and help those who need us.
Interestingly, I notice that it’s bringing up different things for people. Some are scared of getting ill, others worry about their loved ones, many are consumed by financial worries, there’s a fear of loneliness, concerns about mental health etc. This is going to trigger stuff for all of us and there’s never been a better time to sit at home and explore the shadows.
Busyness is what I use to avoid feeling stuff and it’s hard to maintain a frenzied way of life when there is nowhere to go, nobody to see, no meetings, train journeys, shops etc. My usual distractions have gone. It’s just me and the bucket of shit that is my long buried emotions. It’s going to be an interesting time.
I run a pr school on Facebook and have offered to do a weekly webinar, as much for me as everyone else. If I have to spend too many weeks speaking to nobody other than my husband and kids, I will lose the plot. Big time.
I wondered if I might do some webinars on my Falling Together Facebook page too. I don’t quite know what I’d talk about, but it feels like something worth exploring.
When I asked the universe for advice on what to do re this crisis, an image of some buttercups came to mind. An hour later, whilst out walking, I looked up and saw a barge called Buttercup. I thought back to the times when as a kid, I would hold a buttercup under somebody’s chin and declare that they must like butter, due to the golden glow it cast.
That’s it. It is our job to reflect the golden glow that is in everyone back to them. The light in us all is what is going to get us through this – that and the expertise and unwavering dedication of our frontline medical staff.
It’s funny isn’t it, that in this world of materialism, cheap travel and Instagram shallowness, the only thing that is worth anything right now is our NHS. Makes you think…