A Month of Sundays
How doing little can be full of joy when there’s nothing to be done
How is lock down for you? Like so many others I have had the virus. I spent weeks struggling with my breathing. At the very worst of it I wound up in the emergency room, having my chest X-rayed and my bloods done to see if the virus was progressing into it’s more nasty form. Thankfully it wasn’t and I came away humbled, relieved and super grateful for the assessment I had recieved.
I’m over it
Six weeks later and I am grateful to be finally better. I have emerged blinking from that dark tunnel into what seems now like a technicolour world of lockdown.
I have emerged with a different perspective. This isn’t a situation where you can win. Yes some people may come out of lock down less in debt or weighing less and others will come out more in debt and weighing more. But others won’t come out at all.
Even though it was always unlikely that I would actually die of the coronavirus, I am tremendously relieved to be well. On the beach yesterday I saw a woman wearing a sweater that had the words “I’m over it!” with a rainbow and I understood immediately her desire to share this news with everyone. There is a shiny sense of happiness, of being handed back your life, after weeks of battling an invisible foe.
Boredom is not bad
My daughter, having been promised a kitten in 30 days, has built a time machine to get there faster. For the rest of us, time passes in the usual way.
Finding myself well and able to do stuff again, I’m trying my best to enjoy the days. I start with a 5 minute meditation from The Daily Calm. I get outside and plant something, anything, even just one seed to feel I am planning for a future that will come. I got so bored of TV I finally picked up a book. There is so much time that I even remember sometimes to stretch— even if it’s just sitting crossed legged once a day.
I have gradually realised that the total lack of time pressure has created a bubble of opportunity to get closer to myself and my family. I set a goal to play, actually properly play with my daughter every day. I mean the sort of play where you allow yourself to be in the process, really having fun. This little luxury got shelved once she started school and the rigid structure of our lives left so little time for such wanton pleasures….
The lack of certainty is our greatest challenge
Noticing that my daughter seemed to show signs of anxiety and depression, I decided we should get out of the house and go to the sea. Watching her joy at seeing the beach made me remember that certain things are constant. We need to cling to these unchangeables as reality revolves into our ‘new normal’. So many aspects of our lives are open ended right now, it’s good to remember what will always be the same: sky, sea, trees, music, poetry, dance, art, love.
Now I am well I can see the tremendous opportunity for wellness that this period gives me. I can sleep. I can play. I can tend to my garden. Spring has arrived while I was ill indoors. Before I could hardly walk up the stairs without getting dizzy. Now I can walk for an hour and this is a joy.
There is potential for so much healing in this time of collective suffering. We can come together as families, as communities, countries and globally to hold the line, keep going and ‘beat this thing’.
(We are also falling apart, as hopes, dreams, careers, finances, economies and even common sense tip out of the realm of certainty into a beyond we never thought we’d see).
Life has is both blissfully calm and painfully real
Day after day there is nothing to be done. Yet time passes with ease and as quickly as it began, another day is gone. We are living through months and months of Sundays: each one as featureless as the last. This collective house arrest is testing our resilience to the limit but we can at least rest.
So many of us are so depleted by the day to day of our lives. Finally here is a chance to recoup.
Sleep, breathe, connect. This time will pass and we may look back with regret. Not that we didn’t finish that DIY project or learn French. But that we didn’t enjoy the time we had to just be. Time is the one thing all of us have in limited supply. Soon the lockdown will end and we will have to face the new reality with all its fearful uncertainty. But for now, if you can, try to enjoy the peace and embrace the boredom. Mundanity and humdrum is not so bad after all.
