It’s been a while since I’ve posted here, due partly to my current obsession with Book 4. There’s also that other thing, the Coronavirus crisis.
I’m grateful Covid19 hasn’t killed anyone I’m close to. Some family and friends have been ill from ‘the virus’ but not too badly thankfully. Everything seems to have changed though, A.C.
It’s hard, I find, to stay upbeat and focused on doing things when the fabric of life has fallen apart. Friends aren’t getting treatment for cancer, are feeling isolated and depressed, or are constantly anxious about getting ill from the virus. The news is full of suffering and the latest stats on numbers dead.
I feel blessed to live in a house with a garden in a pleasant, very green part of London. So even with the restrictions on daily life, being stuck inside isn’t so bad most of the time. When it’s sunny I love to sit among the blooming rhododendrons – this year our flora has gone crazy, as if to say Fuck it, we’re not dead yet. But the 🦠 is everywhere, somehow.
Not being able to be with the people I want to be with is having a big impact on me, along with many others I’m sure. (Not so much my more resilient friends, interestingly, whose lives are carrying on much as before.) At times I’ve felt desperate to get out of the house for a while to see people passing by, or listen in to scraps of conversations (I know, writers 🙄).
Then there’s uncertainty about the future, that I cheerfully admit to. While my S.O. is optimistic that someone will find a vaccine and says there’s no point in worrying, I feel deeply unsettled by the possibility that we might not – and that from now on, nothing will truly be the same. I’ve started writing poetry again (well, one poem) to express some of the weirdness of life now and a kind of grief over things lost, large and small, for an unknown time.
I’m missing singing with my choir – we’re having zoom sessions but with our microphones muted due to the shortcomings of technology causing delay and echo. This feels so 😞 and weird. Nearly as much as the singing itself, I miss the huddle in the corridor around cups of tea and biscuits, and the chat.
Zoom is great (when it’s working – not one Monday evening after Boris returned and Virgin Media collapsed) but it’s not easy to chat with more than a handful of people, I find. But it’s saved my two writing groups, and I’m doing more yoga and fitness classes than usual.
Looking into other people’s rooms
My S.O. and I have had occasional Houseparty and Zoom drinks 🍹with friends and family in distant places, which has cheered me up. My stepson – approaching his last year at medical school in Italy – has moved in, which has been great despite some online exam stress moments and bandwidth sharing issues… The dog is a lovely to have around too – he gets more walks than usual 😂
I’m grateful for lots of things. Books – I’ve been reading memoirs lately in addition to crime novels. (Will be reviewing some here.) Radio 4, BBC Tv and Netflix. Listening to my favourite radio presenters and even the shipping forecast has been reassuring – thank goodness some things are still the same! Our local streets have a WhatsApp group to and I’ve joined Sing at Six Facebook group. Then there’s wonderful black humor daily from the internet:
Hmm, is anyone still there? This is turning into a novel! I need to get up and get on with the day… Sunday, I think. Keep well in mind, body and spirit, everyone. 😷💙🌼