Like most people (I imagine), living through a global pandemic has provoked quite a number of realisations. Some expected – even welcomed perhaps, others surprising, along with a somewhat uncomfortable truth.
For one there’s been the realisation that I am much more of personal “groomer” than I thought. Three weeks into lockdown and my #ootd hovers somewhere between 13-year-old teenage boy, severe Sunday-hangover and Britney Spears circa 2007 breakdown. My eyes are now akin to a naked mole rat as it nears six weeks since I saw my wonderful lash lady Paulina. As for the rest of my body…naked mole rat it certainly is not. All hair removing tools lie neglected in my bathroom cupboards. My nails are bare (and perpetually broken or chipped) and my hands have aged decades in weeks from my zealous hand-washing. Let’s not even discuss the states of my toes (which are still awaiting their summer ‘glow up’ having been hidden beneath socks, tights and boots the past 6 months). My skin is probably my saving grace during this time: thanks to being make-up free for weeks and having some colour from the recent weather. Likewise, I’m feeling smug that I’m not a bottle blond waiting for my roots to grow out, my hair remains the same as always albeit hitting an awkward length (my ‘lob’ was in need of cut even before lockdown).
The point of all this is that I always assumed I was a “low maintenance” kind of girl. I am not a low maintenance kind of girl. I actually miss wearing something other than leggings (blasphemy, I know).
The other ‘epiphany’ I’ve had has been a renewed awareness of my privilege. I’ve spent the majority of this time questioning why I’ve felt relatively un-anxious throughout, what is, a global pandemic. I’ve asked myself: is it because I’m out of touch? (I don’t think I am.) Is it because I don’t grasp the severity of the situation? (I feel like I do.) I’ve found social media an uncomfortable place to be, repeatedly being told “it’s OK to not be OK” and sitting there asking myself “but is it OK to be OK?” The answer I’ve arrived at is my privilege. I’m not a key worker and so do not need to put myself on the frontlines of this pandemic. Despite being self-employed, my work has been relatively unaffected by this pandemic and should it become affected, I have savings to fall back on. I’m fortunate to be in a really great relationship, with a supportive partner – which not only makes home a comforting place during a time of self-isolation, but a safe one. We have a garden (albeit a small one). We also have a dog, and I’m sure I don’t need to explain just how uplifting a dog’s presence is when you’re feeling low or having a rough day. I also have my health and am continually grateful that my loved ones remain healthy. I have access to technology to stay connected to said loved ones and the means to access food and supplies as usual. I have no children. This last one might seem strange but it must be testing to juggle working from home, alongside entertaining young children, as well as navigating uncertainties with financial security, all in a confined space.
It is these privileges that enable me to pass through this period relatively un-anxious. I can sit here in full health, from the comfort of my sofa, with my fully-stocked fridge and say I’m relishing this time to slow-down, to reconnect, to pause. That mind-set, is in no small part a product of the privilege I have.
Product of my privilege or not, the previous statement is still pertinent. I always knew the pace of my life (along with a large proportion of the rest of the world) was fast. Yet I don’t think I ever appreciated just how fast until now. My conclusion has been that I spend far too much of my life doing and not enough actually being. Just like my current mind-set is somewhat a by-product of my privilege, the pace at which I live my life, is a by-product of what our society has normalised and glorified.
My last realisation is that I actually don’t miss the gym. Again, I can say that in part because we have a good selection of home gym equipment and weights, but it has reinforced to me that movement of any kind, in any place, has both physical and mental benefits. I’d always been slightly biased against home training; doubtful of its ability to produce progress and of my own ability to motivate myself to train at home. What I’ve actually found is I’ve maintained consistency with my training (albeit not lifting quite as heavy) and have also found time to practice yoga every day.
So, what will the lasting impact of my Corona-epiphanies be? I’m not entirely sure. I don’t think I’ll have mastered a handstand (quite), but I might have mastered my cookie recipe. I know which one of those I see as more of an achievement. I might genuinely become more “low maintenance” with my grooming… or I might not. I will go back into the gym, but I will also definitely train at home much more. I also know I will come out of this more present, more conscious and more aware of my lived experience in this world in relation to others.