Are there still beautiful things?

I miss life. That's the phrase on everyone's lips, isn't it? We miss life. We miss trips out with friends, we miss concerts, bars, swimming pools and going on public transport without wearing masks. We miss conversations without mentioning the 'state of things' at the moment. We miss hugs. We miss looking forward to things. 

I thrive on forward, exciting plans. I wish I were one of those people who took life day by day, and smelled the flowers, and counted clouds, and whatever happens, happens and all that - but I'm not. I need concrete plans in my calender. Theatre, holidays, parties, weddings - knowing there's that feeling of fun and freedom and living to come. It's been snatched away from me this year and suddenly,  for maybe the first time in my life, I don't have that - no, I can't have that - anymore. My months are clear and I find myself staring into a future of nothingness.

Ok, that's a tad (or, you know, very) dramatic, but in some ways life feels dramatic. Both dramatic and super anti-climactic at the same time. It's been the longest, but quickest six months ever. The world shutdown in spring, we got shut in our houses, the days dragged and yet the months flew by and suddenly it's nearly autumn and I can feel my innate optimism getting whittled away, little by little. Chipped at through the months like a sculpture working on a piece of marble. Chip - all plays, gigs and holiday plans cancelled. Chip - can't see family or friends. Chip - only go out of your house as a necessity. Chip, chip, chip. 

Hold onto hope, I vow to myself. I find myself up and down with mood. Not the ups and downs one might imagine, like a roller coaster. If it's a roller coaster, it's one of those ones for kids that's about 15 feet high with a speed of 5 miles per hour. No, the mood changes are small and almost imperceptible. One week I'll feel slightly flatter, a little more down than normal. Then the next week I'll be just a bit brighter and things won't seem so bad. It's not depression, or anxiety, or anything as big as that...it's just a slight numbness. 

Life gets cyclical. I stress-bake and eat the profits and then worry about my weight and health. I run, then stop running, then start it up again, bewailing my lack of progress. I watch escapist tv, then I watch dystopia, because if we're living in one I might as well jump in feet first. I write and write and write and never quite finish anything. I read silly romance novels and re-read YA fantasy. I pray. I stop praying. I pray again. 

Hold onto hope, I vow to myself. I glimpse beauty in the mundane. A fox sunning itself on the grass below my balcony. A blue bike with a basket. Photos of my nieces and nephew. A friendly courtyard cat. Pink fairy lights in my bedroom. Fluffy ducklings at the local park that soon grow into adults.

I look for the beauty and I let myself feel the sadness. I don't do sadness well, to quote a line from Spring Awakening. I like to be happy. Everyone does, of course, but some people are good with the other feelings. They're ok with the rage or the melancholy or the even the every day neutral. I just want to smile, like a human golden labrador. Although hopefully not as dumb.  

There's bigger things in all of this, I see as I look at the lives of my friends around me. Wonderful things. Precious, intimate lockdown weddings. Engagements and new love. Multiple pregnancy announcements with the promise of new life to come. Even in the midst of sadness, and terror, and anger, and disappointment and boredom and frustration, there's still beautiful things. 

Hold onto hope, I vow to myself. As things begin to slowly open up, I step out into the world. Tentatively at first, and then head on. I become a tourist in my own city, going to Westminster Abbey and the aquarium and afternoon tea. I take the Tube and wear my mask and keep my distance and wonder if I should feel afraid. I wonder what others think, whether they're judging me for even going out in the first place. There's so much judgement at the moment. I meet up with friends and it revives my soul.

I don't know what's going to happen. I don't know where I, or the world, will be in a month, Christmas, a year. But I promise to keep reminding myself of the wonder in the world. I promise to look up. 

Hold onto hope. Vow to yourself, hold onto hope. 

In the midst of panic

It feels like the world's gone a bit mad, doesn't it? The only - and I do mean only - topic on everyone's lips is Coronavirus. Covid-19. The Pandemic. Not only in my country, but on a global scale. The news is constantly updating us on the precautions that certain countries are taking, including school closures and flight bans, and every day the infection (and sadly, death) count seems to tick up at a rapid rate. It's scary.

First it was China. That seemed far away. Sad, but far from home. Not too much of a worry affecting us. Then it spread through some of Asia, and Australia, and then Europe and the rest of the world. The atmosphere has changed. And not for the better.


Fear
The overarching feeling is that of fear. The anti-bac is all gone, and so are the masks. Someone coughs on the Tube and people edge away. Governments are imposing somewhat strict measures to contain the virus - some say it's too much, some say not enough - but everyone has an opinion. People worry that they will get it themselves or unknowingly infect someone with health issues. Others implore everyone to just stay inside and ride it out. This is combated by those that refuse to not live a normal life because of a 'just in case'. There's panic in the air.

This fear is reaching everyone, and I hate it. I understand it. But I still hate it.


Selfishness
The hoarding has set in, with pasta, toilet paper and pretty much everything else vanishing from stores. The attitude of  'well, if we have to stay indoors, at least I'll be alright' has taken over some people and with it, an inherent selfishness. A mindset of 'me first, others next'. In a heightened situation, people can go into  a mode that thinks only of their own survival, not taking into account that they are in a privileged being young or strong or with a means of transport. Not thinking about the elderly, the disabled, the homeless, the poor, the ones without ways of getting around easily. The ones who are truly in need.

Isolation
With many workplaces already setting working from home in place, and with possible school closures (and some countries like Italy in lock down), many are facing up to the fact that they may be housebound for a while. At my job we are splitting into teams and alternating working from home and in the office. While the super introverted are probably rejoicing about a week spent in pajamas, I'm already feeling trapped and I don't work from home for another week.

There's also the social isolation that comes with it. Tourist site, theatres, festivals and generally fun activities are closing, holidays are cancelled, and there's advice not to shake hands or hug. Combined with working from home or self-isolation, it feels as though life is being put on hold.

Through all of this there seems to be an underlying anxiety in an already anxious world. What's going to happen? When's it going to end? But there's still hope. And there's still an opportunity to make something good of this. To see the beauty in the middle of the uncertainty.


Generosity
There's been a lot of good advice floating around about how to help people, and I want to echo it. This is an amazing chance to help your fellow humans. Donate to a food bank. Go shopping for those who can't go themselves. Cook for others. Combat the selfishness with generosity and, not to sound too hippie-dippie but spread love, not fear.


Peace
Take a deep breath. If you can, go for a walk in nature. Hug a fluffy animal. Read a book. Paint, write, stretch. Look away from social media and the news for a bit. Make time for stillness and rest. Even in the middle of the storm, peace can still come.

Courage
This is a time to take a stand against the fear that's taking over our nation. Take precautions, certainly, and don't be reckless but also don't give in to the panic that is surrounding us. The Bible mentions not to be afraid over 300 times and there's a reason for that. Fear cripples but I know I have a God who is bigger than all this. A God who cares about what happens, and who tells us that we can look to Him in times of trouble. In Him I can find peace, and I can also find the courage to turn my fear into something better. Joy. Positivity. I want something beautiful to come shining through this darkness.

Hold onto hope, friends. We will get through this.