A little uncertainty and finding calm in the present moment by the sea.

There seems to be hope in England that we are nearly over the pandemic now and that life is getting back to some form of normal.  For reasons beyond me, our government has planned a "Freedom Day" when we can lift all restrictions and enjoy life again on the 19th July.  Even when I first heard of this notion I was rather confused and just a little concerned.  Maybe I look at things from a more global perspective and am aware of how the pandemic is sadly far from over in many parts of the world.  But seemingly here in England, the end is in sight.  Or is it?

Don't get me wrong, I would love to start hugging friends and be heading off to a yoga retreat if things were settling down here.  I am fed up with thinking about case numbers, testing and new variants.  Yet when I see crowds gathered at sporting events and busy pubs, my stomach lurches.  I have this familiar tension that starts to build as case numbers rise.  Doesn't anyone else seem to be concerned that we had over 20,000 cases for the last four days in the UK with over 90% of cases the Delta variant?  Yes I hear you, we are mostly vaccinated now which gives a much better outcome in the future.  But having high case numbers still has a huge impact on life: disruption to work and schools, further people getting long covid, more restrictions to international travel and potentially spreading this variant back out into other less vaccinated countries.  It seems like insanity for politicians to be talking about removing all restrictions (including face masks) next month if we are still moving into a surge.

In the last week I have taken many deep breaths and walked many miles along the beach to try and come back to a place of calm.  Maintaining a sense of calm takes  effort when there is a lot of uncertainty around again.  Uncertainty includes not knowing if this is now a third wave or whether further vaccinations will mean levels will plateau and perhaps drop naturally.  Making plans ahead also remains uncertain with rising case numbers.  My wonderful local yoga teacher reluctantly decided to not restart in-person teaching while we are in this situation.  I had planned a day trip with a friend that we then cancelled due to her quarantining after their visitor recently tested positive for covid.  Next week we are heading down to my house that I rent out to garden and DIY before new tenants move in.  Except now the current tenants are still there who have covid and we can't do any of the planned work.  Sometimes I feel like putting my head on the desk and sighing; at other moments I start to rant about how life is not getting back to normal if cases are rising again.  Trying to live alongside this pandemic feels more like wading through mud.

The only thing that seems to be helping is remembering to come back to the present moment. Being out in nature, even in the grey drizzle this week, has helped to slow down my busy mind.  Walking through torrential rain felt invigorating and I could sense my body relax again.  I found myself singing out loud on the empty beach while enjoying the sensation of sloshing through puddles and feeling the rain run down my face.  In the past I may have groaned about grey, drizzly days.  Now I embrace them with enthusiasm knowing that the beach will be quiet with a kind of hush that descends along with the misty clouds.  Even swimming in the sea in the rain has become a favourite moment, noticing the pattern of rain drops in the water as I glide through the water.

Yesterday I went for a dog walk along the coastline away from the town in an area known for bird life.  Glimpses of unusual birds and hearing their unique song every few moments filled me with excitement.  We saw two types of birds of prey (kestrel and a hobby) fluttering their wings as they hovered over the grassland next to the shingle beach.  And to our surprise we saw swifts overhead, not just once but six or seven times.  These migratory birds are only seen for such a short time of year on this coast before they head back to Africa.  As we paused to admire one of them, another swooped low and flew between us brushing close to my hair.  Squealing with delight, we then wondered about what these precious, hardy birds can teach us about endurance.  They seem to be so full of life and energy even though they fly thousands of miles each year in difficult weather conditions.

Perhaps many of us are feeling weary dealing with the ever fluctuating rules, restrictions, making plans, changing plans and working out what we can do safely.  Pandemic fatigue must be making things feel just a little harder the longer this all goes on for.  At some point, the pandemic will become more in the background and living our lives will become easier once again.  And even if I can't keep calm perfectly, just remembering to come back to the present moment a few times in a day will help. 

"Once in a while throughout the day... let go into full acceptance of the present moment, including how you are feeling and what you perceive to be happening.  Give yourself permission for this moment to be exactly as it is and allow yourself to be exactly as you are" (Jon Kabat-Zin)