Covid-19 Lockdown, A Rural Diary - Week 8, Transition
11th - 17th May
This was the week that we saw the easing of Lockdown. The media was full of noise over our Prime Minister's announcement on Sunday night. There seemed to be so much confusion as to what he actually meant. For me it was reasonably clear: he was giving us a length of rope and we could either pay it out gently on a slow path back to some kind of 'normal' - or we could hang ourselves with it.
It seems that perhaps we have felt more secure in Lockdown than anyone could have imagined at the start. What I sensed this week - and the rest of the family too - was an unease. The energies were shifting imperceptibly and resembled those of the first week of Lockdown. People a bit scared, finding their feet, understanding and accepting the new realities. While Lockdown rules were clear-cut (Stay at Home, Save Lives, Save the NHS), people were having difficulty with the nuances of the new mantra: 'Stay Alert, Control the Virus, Save Lives'. My interpretation of this was: you can go back to work if you can't work from home; you can meet up with someone outside your household in a public outdoor environment; but at all times you must be vigilant about your behaviour. In other words, 'listen to what I've just said you can now do in our efforts to get the economy back on its feet, but make sure you keep your social distance and keep washing your hands!'
I think the real issue is that for all those people who are screaming to be let out of their home prisons, there is another group who have loved being at home and another who have become a little institutionalised and are terrified of having their autonomy back. Suddenly we have to make judgement calls again, evaluate situations and make risk assessments. It was so much easier having someone else do that for you. It is amazing, really, how quickly we all adjusted to the Lockdown - but I think the adjustment to our release may take a little longer in some cases.
I know how relieved I was to have the burden of guilt taken off my shoulders for a while: personal guilt over things in my life which I wasn't doing or addressing because I felt I didn't have time; and social guilt over all the things I felt I should be doing for the greater good. And for the first time since their teenage years began, the girls were actually perfectly happy to be at home. Without FOMO, being stuck up a hillside in the middle of beautiful countryside suddenly seemed not such a bad option after all - especially in all this amazing weather.
Pre March 23rd, my 'normal' life consisted mainly of logistics - and I hate logistics. All those texts and phone calls and emails required for constantly making arrangements and appointments; the looming immutable exam schedules - A levels and Finals; the increasingly complicated lives of the girls (What are you doing? When are you next coming home? Are you coming on holiday with us this year? Which festivals are you going to and when? What do you want to do after university? Have you phoned your grandmothers? etc etc etc); the endless appointments with doctors, dentists, beauticians, hairdressers, vets and God knows what else.
But, perhaps best of all, I didn't have to waste time driving. If you live in a rural community such as ours you cannot do anything (except recreational walking, and we've done lots of that!) unless you get in a car. I dread to think about the hours of my life that have been thrown away sitting behind a steering wheel - a problem which only gets worse if you add in traffic jams. With so few cars on the roads during Lockdown, driving to the supermarket was suddenly like living back in the 1960s or 70s. Joy.
Now here we were suddenly having to confront all this 'stuff of life' again. Added to which was the angst as to whether we should change our behaviours once freedom was re-granted. Were we going to be better people? Was society going to have learnt some lessons?
The jury is out on the latter point. Some believe we'll just go back to being our big bad selves, others believe that we will never be the same again. As ever, I suspect there is a middle ground. There will be adjustments but probably not as profound or long term as we all might hope for.
So in the meantime I made the most of the last week of the wonderful HealthcheckUK Live, had my last hilarious workout with Mr Motivator, continued singing with Gareth and my own choir, enjoyed another wine webinar, made some overdue phone calls, did laundry, cooking and domestics, cleared out and painted a cupboard in desperate need (major exercise!) and thought a lot.
On the Friday we had our first Virtual Funeral. N's aunt, who had passed away in hospital from Covid-19 on Good Friday, was finally able to be put to rest once various members of her family, who had themselves contracted the virus, recovered. N's 89 year old mother agonised as to the wisdom of attending the funeral of her only sibling and decided that caution was the better part of valour and managed to get the technology sorted, via helpful neighbours, for her to watch the webcam from the safety of her own home. Despite the weird circumstances, the socially distanced seating and the lack of normal human behaviour at a time of grief (no hugging), it was a reasonably uplifting experience. She was a much-loved, committed Christian who devoted her life to the Christian cause and who, if she didn't have a good word to say about someone, stayed silent. As we were about to move into Mental Health Awareness week, whose theme was Kindness, this seemed timely and appropriate - and if we learn any lessons from Lockdown, maybe it should be this.
This was the week that we saw the easing of Lockdown. The media was full of noise over our Prime Minister's announcement on Sunday night. There seemed to be so much confusion as to what he actually meant. For me it was reasonably clear: he was giving us a length of rope and we could either pay it out gently on a slow path back to some kind of 'normal' - or we could hang ourselves with it.
It seems that perhaps we have felt more secure in Lockdown than anyone could have imagined at the start. What I sensed this week - and the rest of the family too - was an unease. The energies were shifting imperceptibly and resembled those of the first week of Lockdown. People a bit scared, finding their feet, understanding and accepting the new realities. While Lockdown rules were clear-cut (Stay at Home, Save Lives, Save the NHS), people were having difficulty with the nuances of the new mantra: 'Stay Alert, Control the Virus, Save Lives'. My interpretation of this was: you can go back to work if you can't work from home; you can meet up with someone outside your household in a public outdoor environment; but at all times you must be vigilant about your behaviour. In other words, 'listen to what I've just said you can now do in our efforts to get the economy back on its feet, but make sure you keep your social distance and keep washing your hands!'
I think the real issue is that for all those people who are screaming to be let out of their home prisons, there is another group who have loved being at home and another who have become a little institutionalised and are terrified of having their autonomy back. Suddenly we have to make judgement calls again, evaluate situations and make risk assessments. It was so much easier having someone else do that for you. It is amazing, really, how quickly we all adjusted to the Lockdown - but I think the adjustment to our release may take a little longer in some cases.
I know how relieved I was to have the burden of guilt taken off my shoulders for a while: personal guilt over things in my life which I wasn't doing or addressing because I felt I didn't have time; and social guilt over all the things I felt I should be doing for the greater good. And for the first time since their teenage years began, the girls were actually perfectly happy to be at home. Without FOMO, being stuck up a hillside in the middle of beautiful countryside suddenly seemed not such a bad option after all - especially in all this amazing weather.
Pre March 23rd, my 'normal' life consisted mainly of logistics - and I hate logistics. All those texts and phone calls and emails required for constantly making arrangements and appointments; the looming immutable exam schedules - A levels and Finals; the increasingly complicated lives of the girls (What are you doing? When are you next coming home? Are you coming on holiday with us this year? Which festivals are you going to and when? What do you want to do after university? Have you phoned your grandmothers? etc etc etc); the endless appointments with doctors, dentists, beauticians, hairdressers, vets and God knows what else.
But, perhaps best of all, I didn't have to waste time driving. If you live in a rural community such as ours you cannot do anything (except recreational walking, and we've done lots of that!) unless you get in a car. I dread to think about the hours of my life that have been thrown away sitting behind a steering wheel - a problem which only gets worse if you add in traffic jams. With so few cars on the roads during Lockdown, driving to the supermarket was suddenly like living back in the 1960s or 70s. Joy.
The jury is out on the latter point. Some believe we'll just go back to being our big bad selves, others believe that we will never be the same again. As ever, I suspect there is a middle ground. There will be adjustments but probably not as profound or long term as we all might hope for.
So in the meantime I made the most of the last week of the wonderful HealthcheckUK Live, had my last hilarious workout with Mr Motivator, continued singing with Gareth and my own choir, enjoyed another wine webinar, made some overdue phone calls, did laundry, cooking and domestics, cleared out and painted a cupboard in desperate need (major exercise!) and thought a lot.
On the Friday we had our first Virtual Funeral. N's aunt, who had passed away in hospital from Covid-19 on Good Friday, was finally able to be put to rest once various members of her family, who had themselves contracted the virus, recovered. N's 89 year old mother agonised as to the wisdom of attending the funeral of her only sibling and decided that caution was the better part of valour and managed to get the technology sorted, via helpful neighbours, for her to watch the webcam from the safety of her own home. Despite the weird circumstances, the socially distanced seating and the lack of normal human behaviour at a time of grief (no hugging), it was a reasonably uplifting experience. She was a much-loved, committed Christian who devoted her life to the Christian cause and who, if she didn't have a good word to say about someone, stayed silent. As we were about to move into Mental Health Awareness week, whose theme was Kindness, this seemed timely and appropriate - and if we learn any lessons from Lockdown, maybe it should be this.
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