Life is What Happens: Part 1

There is no better way to sum up last year than with the adage, ‘Life is what happens when you are making other plans.’ In January, while news reports of a strange ‘flu in China filtered through to the West, we were eagerly awaiting a year filled with adventure. My diary was crammed with activities up until June: visits from distant family and friends; the Oxford literary festival; a long-awaited trip to Long Island and the chance to hug my granddaughter.

On the morning of the 21 March, I was at the hairdresser, joking about folks taking the ‘flu far too seriously. Later that day, I read in the news that I should self-isolate. This was no ordinary virus; this was something else. And so began what I can only describe as nine months of house arrest. I have occasionally ventured further afield – to collect our puppy; to visit the countryside nearby and Alfriston, but effectively, I have been contained within a 1/4 mile radius.

Be careful what you wish for

On the surface, this appeared like a nightmare. And for many, I’m sure it has been. But for me, despite my love of ordinary life, it has been a wish granted. For years, I have dreamt of being on a retreat and of living a life of pared-down simplicity. I love quiet and contemplation and the rush and bustle of the everyday works against that. With no-where to go and no-one to see, here was my chance. So I took it, and in doing so have found innumerable blessings in this strange, contained life.

Peace

I live on a busy road, so the hush of lock-down has been a boon indeed. Sitting in the garden, every bird call, every rustle of leaves is audible, since it is no longer muffled by the incessant undertow of rumbling traffic. My meditation practice has become routine and unlaboured. No longer do I need to squeeze it into the cracks of the day, but I can indulge whenever I want. I’ve found a system that works for me: 15 minutes in the morning and 20 minutes at night while doing my breathing exercises. This morning, there was a beautiful dawn, so before doing anything else, I did my meditation and watched as the clouds gradually lost their rosy underbellies. Observing beauty and experiencing deep peace is a wonderful way to begin the day.

Reconnecting with the land

Perhaps the most important element to my good health during lock-down has been my garden (and I have no idea how someone stuck in a flat could manage). It has brought me endless delight in the ever shifting seasons. It has brought me food from the vegetable patch and spurred me to improve my cooking skills – especially in regard to preserving and utilising the harvest.

The garden as metaphor has worked its magic too. Half my plants were eaten by wildlife, blown over by fierce winds or stolen by the birds. Some plants thrived, whilst others, mysteriously died. The garden was an illustration in miniature of life itself: we may put in any amount of effort, but chance always plays its part. If we delude ourselves that we are in control, we shall only suffer stress and misery. If we accept these casualties of fate, we will survive in relative equilibrium. As someone whose tendency is to want to order and control everything, this has been an invaluable lesson for me. Whilst Nature firmly puts us in our place (a fairly insignificant speck in the universe), she also gives us hope. There are always new crops, new flowers, new skies. Winter, with its honeyed light, silver frosted lawns, and silhouette trees will be replaced by the exuberant greens of spring and the scent and colours of endless flowers. Life, always, goes on.

Company

The most precious thing that this strange year has brought me is my husband’s company. From being someone who toiled for ridiculously long hours, slipping away before I was awake and returning as evening fell, now he was someone who was home all the time. At first, he replaced work with frantic DIY projects, but slowly, he too began to relax and just enjoy being. For once, we worked together: on the garden and the home, cooking and learning new skills. As a prelude to retirement, it has been a very positive one.

And, of course, working from home, made getting a puppy possible. Hermione has brought us infinite amounts of joy that well outweigh the (not inconsiderable) amount of effort and time required to raise her. She is a little bundle of cheerful mischief who always wants to be as close to you as possible – and who doesn’t enjoy that level of adoration? She has also meant we spend vast amounts of time outside and even with the foul winter weather, that too has played a very large part in keeping us mentally and physically well.

And last, but by no means least, this period has forged friendships rather than breaking them. My weekly chats on the phone or video calls has meant that we are all completely up to date with each others’ lives. And a huge thank you to all of you who have indulged me in this – I know I would not have made it this serenely without you!

There are even a few people who I am in contact with more than before, because changes in their working lives have given them more time. Others have just made the effort to make friendships more solid. My lovely friend from university, for example, set up a wee WattsApp group, so my old housemates and I can share jokes and stories. Though this year’s reunion has been postponed, we are all up-to-date with each other’s news and will have plenty to blab about when we finally get together next year.

As I write, it is New Year’s Eve and like the rest of us, I am looking forward to the New Year and what it may bring. Unlike last year, I don’t have any plans, though. I will take things as they come and try to remain flexible.

And in part 2 of this post, I’d like to look at all the ways we can take the blessings of this strange year to improve our lives in 2021. See you next year!

Happy New Year Everyone!