Finding our own path in this ever-changing new-normal. Lessons from a herd of lively black cows.

Last week, we actually left our local area and packed up the car for a trip away.  Something that I would never have registered as being a big deal until living through a pandemic.  I booked a few nights away in a cosy cottage, tucked in the rolling hills outside Bath where we could enjoy being somewhere different.  It was a wonderful tonic to see a familiar landscape, still unchanged by the ups and downs of these difficult months.  Familiar ancient trees welcomed us with their enormous open arms and I felt myself relax and rest a little more than usual.

On the sunniest day, we decided to complete a circular walk, through a valley towards a pretty village and back in a giant loop. All was well until we arrived at a field with about thirty lively black cows who greeted us at the muddy gate with unbridled enthusiasm, calling their fellow mates to run and meet us.  Wonderful as they were, we decided to not enter their field in case they decided to nibble us or our packed lunch with the same excitement.  Possibly they had mistaken our footsteps for a farmer with more food to share than an egg sandwich?  We turned around and retraced our steps for half an hour until we could find an alternative path.  Later I read that they were probably a herd of Dexter cows, known for their liveliness!

Normally this change may have irked me slightly, as I have a tendency to want to stick to a plan and complete it.  But given the year we have all lived through, I shrugged my shoulders and calmly chose a new route instead.  This has been how things have been during the pandemic - make a plan and then be ready to change it once (or twice).  Our new path led us in the end to the picturesque village where we could eat our picnic undisturbed, looking at an expanse of trees.  As I soaked up the lush view I remembered all that really mattered: gentle walking, being outdoors, trees and a picnic!

For much of the trip, we were unaffected by social restrictions even though this meant cooking every evening (not another meal to cook, I groaned once or twice).  I wonder if the answer to the pandemic is to live in a more rural location where you naturally bump into more sheep and cows than humans?  Our one trip into the city of Bath showed that there was still a pandemic lingering in the background, with the emptiest streets I have ever seen.  I strolled along the historic streets without having to worry about traffic or people, as there were few cars and zero tourists.  We even managed to enjoy one chilly lunch outside a cafe, which was a real delight being my first since last summer.  I felt almost guilty for enjoying the cleaner air and calm as I could simultaneously see quiet shops and cafes longing for more customers.

Returning home, I have a sense that this period of quieter roads and places is about to abruptly come to an end?  I listened to Boris Johnson's enthusiastic plan of the next step of re-opening plus hugging and once again I wonder if this is too much all at once?  Not only do we need to trust the wonder of the vaccine to really work, it is going to take some adjusting to yet another "new-normal".  I can't remember the last time I was indoors with anyone except in my own home and it seems almost alien to imagine restaurants, pubs, gyms and homes being full of people again.  Even though we keep hearing that everyone is "looking forward to it",  perhaps a more honest account would be that for many of us there are mixed feelings about it.

Perhaps these quieter, less social 14 months have made us all a little more hermit-like?  Lovely as it is to leave my home for an outdoor meeting with friends, I also find it tiring.  Have I forgotten how to hang out with people in a relaxed way, or was it always an effort I wonder?  Perhaps I am just plain tired and uncertain deep down that I can suddenly spring back to some kind of old life after this experience?  Without having had a vaccine, I am not about to start hugging and hanging out indoors with many others.

But I can already sense the pull to the outer world, with recent emails announcing dates ahead for yoga classes, music concerts or possible travel.  Things might be "getting better" here in England, but they still don't feel very normal as I wonder about the feasibility of joining back into the world.  I can't seem to shake the underlying concern about the next phase, whether it will now be all okay.  Are we really on a nice, smooth path to some kind of "normal-ish" life again?  Maybe having been through all of this opening up a year ago, it is harder this time to believe it will work and not put us back into another surge of some sort.

But if the energetic herd of black cows have reminded me about something, is that there is often more than one path and the alternative might be just as good.  It is also important to pay attention to signs, both internal and external that may be guiding us on our way.  On the morning of the walk, I had actually woken with less energy than normal but had ignored this and pushed on until the cows forced me to plan a slightly shorter walk.  As things start to re-open further next week in England, I can already feel a sense of FOMO as I wonder what "everyone else" is about to busy doing again.  The lure of "busy-busy" is always tempting to me yet sometimes it can leave me struggling to keep up.  Just because we will be able to sit in traffic jams again soon and maybe book up our diaries a little more, it doesn't mean this is better than a less hectic life.  And sometimes a picnic on a bench, surrounded by magnificent trees is about as good as it gets!  

"To sit in the shade on a fine day and look upon verdure, is the most perfect refreshment"         (from Mansfield Park in 1814, by Jane Austen)