"Freedom day" in the UK as the pandemic continues on.

If this last pandemic year could be compared to taking a year-long cruise around the world, today we would be heading into Drake Passage, south of Cape Horn.  This notorious stretch of water lies between the southernmost tip of South America and the South Shetland Islands in Antarctica.  It is significant because the Atlantic Ocean converges here with the Pacific Ocean, creating some of the most difficult sea conditions in the world.  With no land mass to dampen the merging of two enormous bodies of water, waves of up to 12 metres are common.  The conditions are often described as between "bad and terrifying" unless you are one of the lucky travellers presented with calm conditions.

As the UK government today abandoned all covid restrictions at the same time as infection rates are soaring, things are starting to feel rather unsettled again here in England.  It is as if the power of one "ocean" saying it is time to get "back to normal" is about to collide head on with the other "ocean" that is alerting us to another potential health crisis.  Rather than the captain of the boat finding a safe passage using detailed oceanic and meteorological reports, we are blindly heading into stormy waters.  "Don't worry, this is freedom" I imagine the captain cry as the ship lurches from side to side, juddering against each wave that pounds the ship.  All I want to do is go to my cabin, curl up in my bed and pray for the storm to finally subside.

Perhaps I have been thinking about this metaphor too strongly in the last week, as I have actually been feeling nauseous, lying next to a bucket for two days unable to eat.  Was I already feeling the tension of this surreal situation where we are heading into a third wave of infections but this time we are supposed to ignore it?  My gut instinct is strongly telling me that something is definitely "not right" with this.  I could give you a long explanation, but in short my concerns are about more people with long covid, the pressure on the NHS and sending the Delta variant back out into the world where countries are less vaccinated.  This is surely enough to keep our MPs awake at night as they watch the situation begin to creep out of control here once again?  If 1,200 international scientists recently backed a letter in the Lancet expressing grave concerns about UK's latest "strategy" to open up regardless of the our increasing cases, then at least I know that I am not alone in my alarm.

If I was actually on a cruise ship at the moment and experiencing stormy seas through Drake Passage, there would obviously be an end point.  It takes 48 hours of intensely choppy waters before you are safely through to Antarctica.  Even though some people will enjoy the wildness and excitement of such challenging conditions, I know I would be both fearful and seasick!  Reading a travel guide on this journey, it explains that "it is the changeable nature of the crossing which brings the most trepidation".  However, the reward at the end of the daunting crossing is the breathtaking beauty and stillness of Antarctica.  How I would love to experience the emptiness, the intense peace and vastness of this landscape.  All of us need to feel that things settle down again after a difficult, bumpy patch in life.  Our nervous systems need time to re-balance and restore our sense of calm and ease.

Just as the stormy seas of Drake Passage lead eventually into calm waters, so will the current third wave of coronavirus come and go.  But the uncertainty of how it will unfold is certainly bringing up feelings of trepidation.  Just as I would prepare for a stormy sea journey, I am reluctantly preparing for riding out the next covid wave.  Not that we were venturing to many places, but we are back to outdoors only, seeing just a few friends and plenty of social distance.  My body needs that sense of calm and ease even while things remain uncertain.  So to help I am limiting myself to only one conversation/rant each day about the pandemic with my partner.  I am being mindful about what I read on the internet while noticing if it is reassuring and helpful or triggering grumpiness.  And just as I have found solace and calm out in nature throughout the entire pandemic, this continues to provides a safe space where I can unfurl and recharge away from case numbers.  Perhaps this is what we are all craving now, in very different ways, just a taste of life being relaxed and "free" away from the seemingly never ending cycles of infection. 

"There is peace, even in the storm" (Vincent Van Gogh)

 

 Photos courtesy of Unsplash (sadly I have not made it to Antarctica on my travels)