Lockdown, limbo and leadership. What a week!

I asked my partner on this epic US election results morning, how he was feeling using the weather as a metaphor?  It's a question we used on my yoga course to check in with each other in just a few words.  I thought he would laugh at such a question, but calmly said "like the blue sky".  When it came to my weather for this morning, I replied that I am feeling more like a raging storm with lashing rain, wild winds and crashing waves.  So much tumultuous energy is circulating within my calm exterior, rather like the actual weather system that battered our coast once again at the weekend.  Every now and then, a lull would come, blue sky would appear and I could feel some positivity return for a while. 

What an incredible time we are in.  It feels as if the world is paused, holding its breath to find out the results of the US election, which in these intense and turbulent times carries huge significance.  Something much larger must be at work right now in our planet, whether it could be an astrological pattern or a call from the Earth to return to balance.  We are in some kind of transformation period, where social and environmental change must happen yet some deeply embedded values remain stuck within a system.  Each day, I hold the qualities in mind for leadership that matter to me: honesty, empathy and the ability to empower others.  

Meanwhile here, we are facing our own fiasco in the pandemic with the surprise U-turn on Saturday morning.  "Another lockdown, you are joking?" was my response over my calming cup of lemon tea this Saturday morning.  I've been checking the data and updates each day and this was consistently not on the horizon.  After watching every scientist and virologist talk on BBC news while waiting for the very delayed announcement, I understood the rationale.  But my shock once again is the short notice and the complete change in plan.  And just to add to the ridiculous nature of these times, Parliament is still debating and voting on it today when our lockdown is due to start, uh, tomorrow morning.  

Since this announcement, I feel like my brain and emotions are working on different time scales.  My mind has gone through a list of practicalities, what is it that I need to get that is urgent and what do I need to cancel?  The difference this time is that I am more prepared, I have got enough toilet roll, lentils, tinned tomatoes and even some library books anyway.  My pandemic reserves of energy are running at such a low that I can't manage dashing to a busy supermarket.  It didn't take too long to cancel upcoming events because parts of my life are still on zoom anyway and I've been cautious making many plans ahead due to the uncertainty. 

But my emotions are moving at snail's pace.  I still feel shocked about the new restrictions and tearful about cancelling much cherished plans once again.  I have valued being able to do more things in person, especially my yoga classes.  It doesn't seem to make sense that tomorrow will be the start of another version of lockdown.  Everything feels normal today in the glorious sunshine, people are wandering around our seaside town enjoying cafes and takeaways.  Our infection rates here are relatively low.  I swing from reluctant acceptance to annoyance at how this has been handled.  I feel frustrated that I have to follow restrictions again when I've followed every rule.  My mind whirls away with questions about it once again: Have we waited too long again?  Will this type of lockdown with schools and universites open actually work?  

And while the US election results are pending and we are heading for our second lockdown in the same 24 hours, it all feels a bit crazy right now.  So I am doing whatever is needed to stay grounded, which is remembering to breathe and to get out into nature regularly to walk and detach from this craziness.  As soon as I walk by the sea or take some chilly strokes in the water, I feel myself return home.  Whatever the outcome of the election or our lockdown, the natural world still provides a sanctuary each day.  I remember how the bird song and fresh air was so nourishing during our first lockdown and I will turn to this once again for restoration. 

And then, during fleeting moments I get a sense that something greater than these struggles is at work.  Somehow, in these conflicted and bumpy times, a ray of light will emerge.  Out of the pandemic and turbulent politics, we must heed the call to grow and to listen to whatever lessons are being presented to us.  Because something is going on that we cannot possibly ignore.  A quote that touched me deeply is by Sonya Renee Taylor, that speaks to the heart of these times:

 "We will not go back to normal. Normal never was. Our pre-corona existence was not normal, other than we normalized greed, inequity, exhaustion, depletion, extraction, disconnection, confusion, rage, hoarding, hate, and lack. We should not long to return, my friends. We are being given the opportunity to stitch a new garment, one that fits all of humanity and nature" (Sonya Renee Taylor)

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

A wonderful week of nourishment at Cortijo Romero in Spain.

Image
On Easter Saturday (2022) I arrived at the gates of Cortijo Romero in Southern Spain and was greeted by Lelly, the host for the week.  "How was your journey?" she asked kindly.  My answer to this was, "fine, everything had run surprisingly smoothly".  My EasyJet flight wasn't cancelled; there were no long queues at security as shown in the media;  I managed to breath comfortably through my FFP2 face mask for the entire journey (phew) and my digital NHS Covid Pass was accepted.  Having not left England for well over two years, there was definitely more effort needed to remember how to navigate travel again.  An element of uncertainty lingered in the background while making these plans to visit Cortijo Romero, but I accepted this as part of the "new normal" that we are supposedly adjusting to.  And, miraculously, each step of the plan fell into place until I was finally here, in one of the most peaceful and healing places that I know. As I walked around
Read more

How Cortijo Romero, in Spain, is keeping calm and riding the ups and downs of the pandemic.

Image
Early August at Cortijo Romero is normally hot, but a warm breeze allows guests to relax fully under the clear blue summer skies.  Nestled in a lush, fertile valley within the Alpujurra region of southern Spain, Cortijo Romero has been welcoming guests for over three decades.  It describes itself as a personal development or creative holiday centre with a weekly programme that ranges from yoga courses, walking weeks, all kinds of creative expression to more therapeutic courses.  As you arrive at Cortijo Romero (CR) after a long journey, you are greeted by both the warm staff and a deeply nourishing energy that feels like no where else on earth.  It makes me want to breathe more deeply, as if a weight lifts from my shoulders and I arrive back home fully into my own self.  I've been fortunate to visit as a guest a number of times, mostly participating in restful and rejuvenating yoga courses.  I have also worked and lived in this beautiful oasis for two periods as their volunteer
Read more

Coast to coast walk day 5. The last section, reaching the south-east coast of Kent! Walking to support Cortijo Romero in Spain.

Image
Yesterday we finally embarked on the last section of our "coast to coast" walk continuing from our previous stop at the village of Etchinghill on the Elham Valley Way.  This final part of the route would take us all the way to the south-east coast of Kent, finishing on the beach at the seaside town of Hythe.  As with many things during the last 18 months of the pandemic, the walk has not gone to plan.  We intended to walk this section two weeks ago, but my on-going health struggles following my second Pfizer jab had other ideas.  Twenty-four hours after completing our previous section of the walk, I was suddenly ill again with more post-vaccine symptoms.  It has taken until now (alongside my GP's firm instruction to not suddenly over-do the exercise) to feel able to walk this far. Etchinghill was bathed in the most glorious morning light with clear blue skies above us and a definite autumnal chill in the air.  We retraced our steps for a mile or so from our last section a
Read more

When life takes an unexpected turn, the sudden passing of my father.

Image
How do I begin?  It was only a little over two weeks ago early on Saturday morning that I heard the phone ring.  I was in the bathroom at that moment, so all I heard was Martin saying "it's your sister, it's your sister, she has to speak to you".  First thing in the morning calls from my sister have never been good news, so I already knew this was about my dad.  I begged the universe for him to be poorly but still with us, so that we could dash to be with him but my wishes were already too late.  He had died peacefully in his sleep at his care home, having had a totally "normal" day previously.  He had been getting weaker in the last few months, but nothing that gave concern. Perhaps the sudden, unexpected part of this loss makes it more difficult for it to sink in.  The weekend passed in an emotional blur with a strange mixture of adrenaline and grief.  I had such a strong impulse to do something, to rush to his side and help.  But there was nothing we coul
Read more

Making a pilgrimage to lay flowers for the Queen and our collective loss.

Image
I stood in a local supermarket early yesterday morning choosing flowers to lay at Green Park next to Buckingham Palace for the Queen.  I wanted to ask someone for advice or reassurance.  Could I just take a small bunch of carnations that spoke to me, in bright pink or yellow?  Surely for the Queen, I should take a specially made bouquet, with exactly the flowers that she loved?  I reasoned that there would be already a lot of flowers there and that a small, biodegradable gesture would be perfectly acceptable.   Clutching my pink carnations, I followed a number of other people from Victoria Station making their way up to Hyde Park Corner.  Having not been to London since the pandemic began, it already felt strange to be among crowds, traffic and police.  Thankfully I had arrived early and there was plenty of space to walk along the pavement.  Turning into Green Park, however, I suddenly saw hundreds of people all making the same pilgrimage to the flowers.  Drawn by the same force that h
Read more

How to get through Covid fatigue - have patience and rest or push on through?

Image
Getting covid for the first time was a bit of a shock, having managed to escape it for two and a half years.  I had just come back from a nourishing Ayurvedic retreat in Herefordshire and had been feeling relaxed and well.  A few days later, however, I rapidly felt ill with the classic signs: sore throat, fever and aching muscles.  I just knew that I finally had covid.  It was definitely more flu-like than a sniffly cold and took well over ten days to be out of bed very much.  But nearly six weeks on, I am still on the slow path to recovery... I keep telling myself that I am slowly improving.  The constant headache around the front of my head finally subsided which was a relief.  The muscle aches are less common.  I still cough, especially if I overdo things.  But the main thing left is the fatigue.  Like fatigue I have never experienced before.  It is not being tired nor low energy.  It feels like a strange creature has come to hang out in my body for a while.  Yet the fatigue also f
Read more

Swimming (and walking) in the snow while soaking up the beauty of nature.

Image
I think I might have got hooked on sea swimming, just a little, perhaps?  Last week I saw that snow was forecast and my first thought was "great, I can swim while the beach is covered in snow".  I have been excited for days that our little seaside town might get snow that actually settles on the ground rather than the mushy wet slush we've had.  I've not seen snow for years and while we are starting month FOUR of pretty much "lockdown" in this area, snow is beyond exciting.  It means I can have a mini-adventure right from my house and see the world looking all sparkly and white.  Snow feels like a change, a much needed break from the monotony and routine of these weeks of "staying at home".  I was so excited yesterday morning when I woke expecting swathes of pristine, not-yet-walked-on snow.  As I opened the curtains, my heart sank just a little because the snow wasn't settling.  But there were delicate snowflakes coming down alongside the free
Read more

Getting away from it all into the wilds of Herefordshire!

Image
Living in such uncertain times feels draining.  We seem to be reeling from one change to another at such speed.  Even though I am very mindful about what I watch and read in terms of news (very little) it is difficult to not be affected.  I wonder if this is one of the factors that is affecting my immunity and health?  To find some balance and sense of wellness, I recently headed to Herefordshire to get away from it all.  It wasn't the easiest of journeys as I'd just been ill with a stomach bug which was taking time to recover from (although not infectious still).  But I knew I would be okay once I arrived, as this retreat was all about health and rest!  Arriving at The Clover Mill in the torrential chilly rain wasn't the best start, but I could still see the Malvern hills peeping out from the rain clouds.  Clover Mill is a small Ayurvedic retreat centre, where people come to learn about Ayurveda, eat delicious freshly prepared food, do some yoga and be generally nourished
Read more

The wonders of sea swimming during lockdown! And how to get the health benefit without freezing!

Image
I am having two different conversations while out on my walks by the sea with locals.  The first involves the pandemic situation here in my little seaside town.  Up until recently, it has felt like a safe haven with relatively low case numbers.  But things change quickly in a pandemic and at the weekend more than one neighbour cheerfully commented that "we have gone purple" now.  Fortunately I have stared at the colourful coronavirus map of the UK enough times to know that purple means a lot of cases.  As I wonder how on earth that happened so quickly, it is also a stark reminder that there is actually a pandemic still rumbling away which is now more prevalent here. Fortunately the second conversation is about swimming and how I am managing to swim in the sea without freezing.  And that is a very good question that I am exploring.  The most commonly asked question is "what do you wear?"  There seems to be a divide in the world of open-water swimming about whether t
Read more

Why is resting so difficult to actually do? A peaceful weekend remembering how to slow down!

Image
"Rest more and take things easy for a while" is advice we have probably all heard or given at some point in our lives.  My GP told me recently to ensure that I rested while still recovering from a persistent virus and bronchitis.  I listened to her words of advice with a deep sense of relief, as if permission was being given to do what my body needs.  But simultaneously I wanted to ignore such advice and keep going as "normal".  I have a deeply ingrained habit of pushing on through, no matter how I feel, to get something done.  If I rest, I won't "progress" or "keep up" and will miss out on things.  Someone has to hold everything together I say to myself, that someone being me!  If I rest, the world could actually fall apart while I'm relaxing somewhere peaceful? Sound familiar?  Having ignored my body's natural need to slow down and rest for decades, I now find myself being forced to pay more attention due to my health.  If I overdo
Read more