Sheltering from
the cool north wind,
I share this bench,
and the last rays
of summer sun,
with a dragonfly.
Sheltering from
the cool north wind,
I share this bench,
and the last rays
of summer sun,
with a dragonfly.
Recently, I find myself paralyzed by uncertainty, weighed down by the weight of my own expectations.
These really are strange times. Even though here in the UK the lockdown is gradually lifting, there is so much uncertainty about what will happen next. With the virus, with the global economy, with life as we know it.
I am actually finding this stage harder to deal with than the full lockdown! So many ‘what ifs’. So many parts of life that might not get back to normal for a long, long time.
The strangeness of having family or friends to visit, so wonderful to see them, but they have to sit in the garden (in the rain on one occasion!) and I have to think twice about offering them a cup of tea.
The sense of almost-back-to-normal when I meet with friends for walks, and the difficulty of remembering to walk 2 metres apart when we have 3 months worth of catching up to do!
Skyping family and friends on the other side of the world and wondering when I’ll actually be able to see them again – could it be months? Years?
Hearing that I won’t be able to go back to the office 6-12 months. I really like working from home, and I normally work from home 3 days a week anyway, but I’m starting to feel a bit isolated without my weekly trips to the office to chat (I mean work).
Uncertainty and worry over work, the pandemic, the economy, the future…it is paralysing! It stops me from doing what I need to do and what I want to do.
It stops me from writing.
It stops me from painting.
It makes me agonise over decisions – or not make decisions at all.
It makes me want to lie on the sofa and scroll through the news AGAIN, as if the answer is there somewhere if only I scroll further.
The uncertainty is not going to go away anytime soon.
I’m the one who is going to have to change, to learn to live with it.
Adjust my expectations about what I can achieve during this time. Find a way to move forward, to make choices, even when I don’t know what is ahead. Enjoy what I can do instead of focusing on the things I can’t do. Simply enjoy the summer.
What about you? How are you coping?
The distant sound
of cricket on the radio
drifts hypnotically through
the open window.
Sitting at my desk
I struggle to stay awake,
work seems irrelevant,
not made for summer days.
Even the sound of someone
scoring something,
the cheers of the crowd,
the raised voices
of the commentators,
fail to rouse me
from this mid-afternoon torpor.