How to feel a little calmer while life has some challenges.

Last week I officially fell out with the pandemic.  I am not feeling any sort of calm acceptance right now and I am totally fed up with adjusting to our "new normal".  I have moaned, cried and used the word "ridiculous" many times.  I don't want to be waiting on Boris Johnson's latest briefing before I can confirm if I can travel for a very rare weekend away to visit a close friend.  I am tired of looking at scientists' graphs about worst outcomes.  Why should I have to be constricted again in what I can do, when I've followed every single rule for six months?  "It's not fair" I moan, as I stomp about.  If everyone followed the rules correctly and we had a tracking and testing system that worked properly, we would be seeing less case numbers.  This pandemic sucks and I do not want to hang out with it any longer.  It is ruining things and some of these things we can't get back.   Apparently it is quite normal at the six month point i

We have recently passed the six month milestone since the WHO declared a global pandemic on March 11th 2020.  It is also six months since we entered our lockdown phase in the UK when all of our lives changed considerably.  Back then, I would have confidently predicted that things would be back to normal by now and that we would be slowly healing the emotional and economic impact of coronavirus.  I only planned to write my blog for ten weeks, to get through to the other side of the crisis.  But six months in, we are still planning around coronavirus, dealing with test shortages and facing more months of this familiar uncertainty.   The phrase, this is a marathon not a sprint now seems less helpful because no marathon lasts this long.  This phrase also conjures up a sense of endurance and just getting through no matter how much your body or psyche hurt.  Six months on, I would rather take a more leisurely stroll through the pandemic, riding the ups and down with some kindness and unders

One of my happiest moments of each day has become my daily swim in the sea.  I have been a regular summer swimmer since I have lived in my seaside town, but to venture into the water when it is chilly has become a new mini adventure.  I never believed those locals who said it was invigorating to dip into the sea while the rest of us are wearing a warm coat (are they mad?!).  Of course, the temperature of the water in September isn't that cold, just cool enough to wake up my body and give a little zing.  But it feels freeing and adventurous for just ten minutes of the day, which at the moment, really matters. On Sunday, I actually swam next to a cormorant, perched elegantly on a post that stands out from the shore above the tide line.  I remained far enough away so as to not disturb this majestic bird as it gently fluttered its wings.  It stayed there for what seemed like ages, then suddenly opened its enormous wings and showed its full width.  I was speechless (and a little chilly)

As the first chilly nights arrive in stark contrast to our endlessly sunny summer, I have that "going back to school" feeling.  Leaves are starting to show the beginnings of autumnal colours, the evenings suddenly feel darker and I'm wearing warm layers again.  For two decades I've worked in primary schools, so the childhood feeling that we might associate with the start of September has been long extended.  I would normally be planning work, filling in my new academic year diary and bracing for the impending INSET days.  By the second week of September, I would typically have my year mapped out with dates, holidays, meetings and targets all neatly highlighted in yellow.  Nothing in life is entirely predictable, but working in a school gives a huge amount of structure to a year ahead which has always felt reassuring. I hadn't exactly planned on a redundancy but decided to make the most of an enforced break to focus on improving my health, dealing with the aftermat