Week 10. Balance. Staying steady when riding more ups and downs.
Celebration is in order! New Zealand is coronavirus free from Monday this week! 40, 000 people have been tested in the last 17 days and none have tested positive with no one in hospital for Covid-19 for 12 days. Even more incredible is that it has been 40 days since the last case of community transmission. Just imagine, waking up with no coronavirus in the country and being able to... open schools normally, go out to eat, hug friends and travel around. Wow! I am celebrating with you and will join PM Jacinda Ardern in her little dance for joy.
Just before I could watch Jacinda Ardern's speech on You Tube, the preceding advert was ironically for colourful fabric face masks for the UK viewers. It's hard not to compare New Zealand's success to UK's crisis. A week ago, the ONS estimated that 39, 000 people in England alone were newly infected with coronavirus. This number was calculated from a huge study testing thousands of randomly selected people. My partner was one of these randomly chosen people (he was negative). I want to be optimistic, but at the same time these numbers pull me towards remaining cautious in resuming much activity beyond my house.
And at the same time, while our restrictions are being slowly lifted, I equally want get outside and be a little more social. Remembering my hopefulness of last week, I am focusing on the tiny new steps that feel doable in our socially distant world. We met up with our dear friends who we haven't seen since March except on Skype. Seated outside their beach hut in the slightly drizzly blustery weather, it felt as near to normal as possible.
The most exciting part was seeing their twins who we've also not seen for this time. Luckily they still remember me, unless they just smile at everyone who gets excited at seeing them? Seeing their delight and happiness was more than enough reason to venture out into the world. They are amazing company and I love watching their personalities unfold. The painful bit was not being able to cuddle them (the babies, not my friends!). A 2 metre invisible line divided us into two households with no babies crossing it. For someone who spent hours with these tiny creatures in their first 6 months, singing, cuddling, talking and feeding, it felt unnatural and even painful.
So, the ups and downs continue but maybe not as steep as before. More like riding gentler waves on the sea rather than a lashing storm. Even so, I feel like a learner trying to navigate a familiar world in a different way. Rather like the slow process of learning a new skill such as stand up paddle boarding. If you have tried it, or watched, it normally consists of ten minutes where all seems well as they kneel and paddle. And then the moment comes when they try to stand and inevitably fall spectacularly into the sea. Only to then use all their effort to get back on the board and repeat the whole experience.
And this is how I feel at the moment, I'm trying to learn a new way of being in the world that feels okay for a while and then it just feels hard again. I feel like I am wobbling between these two modes of pandemic life, staying mostly at home or venturing out into the world again in our "new normal". Is it just me, or do other people get times of being totally fed up with the whole thing now? I wish coronavirus had gone from here and then normality would actually return in a more recognisable form.
How do we continue to ride these smaller waves of excitement, uncertainty, disappointment, frustration, worry and hope as they pass through our weeks? I picture myself in my orange sea kayak out on a breezy day, happily navigating the waves as they come. My sea kayak is solid and sturdy, and can handle small waves without any problem. I stay very present in the moment and steer my canoe towards the waves head on, knowing that I will reach the other side quickly. I also trust that there will be a gap between some of the larger waves for a rest. This is actually me in the photo on my kayak at sunset on a calm sea, no waves at all to navigate that day.
In the same way, maybe we ride our emotional waves while somehow staying balanced as we paddle through to the other side. Just knowing that each emotion will pass does help. And when it is feeling pretty choppy, I can remember that a lull will come again and I get to have a break. There is a fine balance between allowing ourselves to feel whatever is happening for us without getting stuck in one emotion for too long.
And I hope that we can learn lessons from our eastern friends in places such as New Zealand and South Korea whose approach is really working. Recently, South Korea has a small cluster of 79 new infections and has partly shut down Seoul for two weeks to stop any more cases. Imagine when we reach numbers and effective solutions like that, we will also be able to have a little dance of celebration or relief.
In the meantime I've just finished stitching elastic on my three home made face masks, so I can choose paisley pink or flowery. Anyone needing instructions?
Just before I could watch Jacinda Ardern's speech on You Tube, the preceding advert was ironically for colourful fabric face masks for the UK viewers. It's hard not to compare New Zealand's success to UK's crisis. A week ago, the ONS estimated that 39, 000 people in England alone were newly infected with coronavirus. This number was calculated from a huge study testing thousands of randomly selected people. My partner was one of these randomly chosen people (he was negative). I want to be optimistic, but at the same time these numbers pull me towards remaining cautious in resuming much activity beyond my house.
And at the same time, while our restrictions are being slowly lifted, I equally want get outside and be a little more social. Remembering my hopefulness of last week, I am focusing on the tiny new steps that feel doable in our socially distant world. We met up with our dear friends who we haven't seen since March except on Skype. Seated outside their beach hut in the slightly drizzly blustery weather, it felt as near to normal as possible.
The most exciting part was seeing their twins who we've also not seen for this time. Luckily they still remember me, unless they just smile at everyone who gets excited at seeing them? Seeing their delight and happiness was more than enough reason to venture out into the world. They are amazing company and I love watching their personalities unfold. The painful bit was not being able to cuddle them (the babies, not my friends!). A 2 metre invisible line divided us into two households with no babies crossing it. For someone who spent hours with these tiny creatures in their first 6 months, singing, cuddling, talking and feeding, it felt unnatural and even painful.
So, the ups and downs continue but maybe not as steep as before. More like riding gentler waves on the sea rather than a lashing storm. Even so, I feel like a learner trying to navigate a familiar world in a different way. Rather like the slow process of learning a new skill such as stand up paddle boarding. If you have tried it, or watched, it normally consists of ten minutes where all seems well as they kneel and paddle. And then the moment comes when they try to stand and inevitably fall spectacularly into the sea. Only to then use all their effort to get back on the board and repeat the whole experience.
And this is how I feel at the moment, I'm trying to learn a new way of being in the world that feels okay for a while and then it just feels hard again. I feel like I am wobbling between these two modes of pandemic life, staying mostly at home or venturing out into the world again in our "new normal". Is it just me, or do other people get times of being totally fed up with the whole thing now? I wish coronavirus had gone from here and then normality would actually return in a more recognisable form.
In the same way, maybe we ride our emotional waves while somehow staying balanced as we paddle through to the other side. Just knowing that each emotion will pass does help. And when it is feeling pretty choppy, I can remember that a lull will come again and I get to have a break. There is a fine balance between allowing ourselves to feel whatever is happening for us without getting stuck in one emotion for too long.
And I hope that we can learn lessons from our eastern friends in places such as New Zealand and South Korea whose approach is really working. Recently, South Korea has a small cluster of 79 new infections and has partly shut down Seoul for two weeks to stop any more cases. Imagine when we reach numbers and effective solutions like that, we will also be able to have a little dance of celebration or relief.
In the meantime I've just finished stitching elastic on my three home made face masks, so I can choose paisley pink or flowery. Anyone needing instructions?
I really like the kayak analogy and love the photo. I'd like to visit my friends in New Zealand for some normality but wouldn't be allowed in!
ReplyDeleteThank you! I'm glad the kayak analogy made sense. Yes, I'd love a trip to NZ too, sounds like paradise at the moment!
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