These are weird times, in a surreal world. Someone ate an undercooked bat and now we cannot see our friends, cannot visit our mums and dads in their homes, or in a home, have to wash our hands twenty times a day, instead of the five we were accustomed to. Saying that, a friend of mine went to a Private Club in London at the beginning of this pandemic, and some of the posh ladies in the bathroom did not wash their hands after doing a pee pee, which you would do even if there wasn’t a bird flu virus swirling through the British capital and beyond. So, sometimes I question our common sense.
But there you have it: some of us obviously believe that the virus is beneath us, that we are untouchable. Take the old people at our local Farmer’s Market. Germans don’t know how to queue at the best of times - we are now at the worst of times. They stand there in their little groups of fours and fives, maybe with a little more distant between them, maybe not. Perhaps the greater distance is why their comments about “look at her with her mask, it is not like this is the Pest; I have lived my life, doesn’t concern me; I have been standing here with the cucumber I picked up from the stack (with the sign that says “Do Not Touch” next to it) for two minutes, it is all I am buying from you, only to put it down back on the stand and walk away angrily for not being served; I am covered in Jesus’s blood, the virus cannot touch me” are so audible.
Our whingeing is what the Germans call “complaining of the highest order”, which I like to call “First World Problems”, like cancelling the cleaner, having to go to the grocery store twice a week instead of five times a week, cooking for your college student kids who have decided to listen to you and spend this time of uncertainty at home, and having to exercise at home or outside instead of a stinky gym.
I tend to complain a lot. But then I always try and find the good in the bad. The Persian saying of “this too shall pass” is too passive as my mantra. This is a good time to evaluate what you want in life, what you don’t and what you can do without. Those last two are not the same things.
It helps to be authentic, it helps trying new things- no, I will not attempt to sew a mask for example, but I did join an online Literary Festival last week, set up by CJ Cooke. It was during one of the sessions with Kirsty Eyre, Abigail Mann, Asia MacKay and Helen Lederer that it became so clear. The biggest tool we have to overcome this time of gloom is humour. It is the only way out of any tragedy. Humour. And reflection.
Make a list of things you have learnt from the time inside your home and away from all the hustle and bustle.
Here is mine:
- Don’t eat bats
- Think about why people eat bats; are we that different?
- Washing hands and staying home when you are sick is not as OCD as I assumed
- I am such a procrastinator
- Writing is good for the soul
- My goals are often unattainable; be more realistic
- Less is more
- I clean better than my cleaner
- I cannot iron
- I cannot sew
- Facial masks also hide facial hair. Win win. (Also- Slipknot knew the power of masks all along.)
- I need to moisturize more
- I spend far too much time on social media
- Social Media drains your soul
- You can never have enough books
- Listen to music
- Be kind to yourself
PS I may just let you know all the re-scheduled concert dates. But before I do, I will have to dry my tears about not seeing Pearl Jam this year. That may take a while. Take care of yourself and yours!
