Lessons from Lockdown: Life in Slow(er) Motion
Here we are. Six weeks deep into lockdown life. I’ll hasten to say that we’re officially in a quarantine groove. Which means I’m now ready to spout some deep thoughts on what this New Normal has taught (um, scratch that — continues to teach) me. Like everyone else, I’m just feeling my way through this thing but some life lessons have already come my way.
Ironically, so much of this is oddly reminiscent of precisely how I felt upon my return from my adventures around the world. Quietly, but indefinitely, changed by one shocking life experience.
Backpacker outfits on repeat made me realise how little I need to own. Life perpetually lived in loungewear makes me realise, well, how little I need to own. Beautiful walks on beaches round the world were a reminder that nature will always ground me. Daily loops round my local park to break up otherwise dull days remind me that (you guessed it) nature will always ground me.
Surprisingly for this serial traveller, I seem to be learning just as much from sitting still as I have from my gallivanting round the globe.
Now, before I mic drop my pearls of lockdown wisdom, I suppose I should share a few caveats. Firstly, I feel incredibly fortunate to have a steady job and income security (for the time being anyway) so I haven’t suffered any financial strain. I also don’t have children (despite having been a stepmother in a former life) which means most of my free time is ‘me time.’ So naturally my thoughts and views are a reflection of these specific life circumstances.
But given that we’re all living this wild and wooly experience collectively (to quote the ladies of The High Low), I’m hoping my nuggets of wisdom will still be relatable despite the unique ways we’re all living through it.
So here you have it, all the deep thoughts and aha! moments of my little life lived during lockdown:
1) Once busy, always busy: When I returned from India to discover my employer had enforced indefinite WFH (work from home), I was not-so-secretly over the moon. You mean you’re offering me a break from the London underground, two commuter hours saved (per day, folks!) and lunch breaks for sorting out my laundry? Finally. Finally. The opportunity to slow down my chaotic (and usually sleepless) London life. Daily lie ins. Blogging. Bliss.
And to some degree this has held true. I do indeed have a cheeky, dreamy half-hour to read quietly on my sofa before work in the morning. But somehow — it also took me exactly zero minutes to create a lengthy, brand spanking new Lockdown To-Do List. Within days I’d filled it with all sorts of projects to embark on whilst at home: daily workouts, a redesign of my bedroom, mastering the art of indoor plants and hipster coffee (the Chemex is incredible, FYI), watercolours, upping my cooking game, making at-home beauty products, signing up to a photography course and blogging. A lot more blogging. And, as you can imagine, by week two of quarantine, I was shattered. Because let’s face it, I still have a day job.
At which point it hit me that even if quiet time is offered up on a silver platter, my tendency will be to fill every minute to an inch of my life, until my cup truly does runneth over. Take note, fellow overachievers. And remember to occasionally stop (and I mean really stop), have a little lie down, stare at the ceiling, and do absolutely nothing at all. And remember that sometimes being unproductive is exactly the kind of productive you need. Enjoy this precious opportunity to do nothing. And then feel f*cking fantastic about it.
2) Good riddance, FOMO: Since we’re all stuck at home, and the highlight of everyone’s week is a girl squad Zoom call — or in my case a brisk walk round the block — it suddenly feels like all bets are off on Competition Coolest Life. Because no one is out there getting their third spin session in, or eating at that new Mexican hotspot whilst you’re just sat at home bingewatching Netflix. Because we’re all just sat at home, Disney+ing and doing our best to keep our chins up in these strange times.
I’ve found this incredibly refreshing. The comparison lever has finally been turned down a few notches and all the things we have in common are getting the spotlight instead. That sunshine makes us smile. That light exercise keeps us sane. That our space(s) truly impact our mind and our moods. (More on this later.) That clapping for our carers really does bring us together. And melts my heart every single Thursday evening. All my fingers are crossed that remnants of this humbling spirit are carried back into normal life - whatever that looks like next.
3) Humans are trés adaptable: Week one was sheer shock. And an absurd amount of memes. To add a little lightness in a world that suddenly felt too heavy to bear. And then came the tears. For me at least. And a mourning for an old life where I would have celebrated my birthday is true Aries style. Read: partying. And embraced that first sizzling spring day in the park and pub and probably dancing till near-dawn. And then came Week Three. Where I suddenly found myself in a steady rhythm, precisely as follows: a late alarm (whoohoo!), a pre-work read with my coffee, morning at my make-shift desk, a lunchtime park walk, more work and a Psycle Barre class to round off my day. And repeat. Much like Groundhog Day. And it’s been fascinating to watch everyone else do the same. Build entirely new rhythms around this homebound life. So much so that I’m expecting a return to reality to be my next shock. And I’m already mourning my commute-free existence.
4) Hugs matter: When this all kicked off, I thought, “Damn, technology’s really going to save the day.” No face-to-face rendezvous, no problem. I can still Facetime my momma. I can Zoom call my besties. I can virtual pub quiz my way through my boredom. I can even hang with all my favourite spin instructors on IGTV. And then — suddenly — my feed was flooded with one too many Instagram Lives for my liking. (Except you, DJ Nice, keep doing your thing.) And I also quickly realised how much I missed real hugs. Touching my friends on the shoulder when they say something funny. Gently nudging a guy I have a bit of a crush on. Sweaty hugs and high-fives with instructors after class. I miss human touch. (Yes. In every single way.) So much so that I asked my flatmate — who I literally see every second of every single day — for a big hug yesterday. So expect relentless affection when I see you next.
5) And our surrounding space matters even more: I’ve always had a thing for interiors. And I’ve been perpetually waiting for that London moment where I unlock the door to my very own flat and kit it out to my heart’s content. Though I’ve always managed to make due and create a cosy sanctuary in each and every London home. Efforts which I’m currently feeling particularly grateful for.
And as our work and home lives continue to blur, and our once sacred homespace gets tarnished with stressy work vibes, I’m finding it incredibly challenging to dissociate the two. Last weekend, as I curled into my sofa chair to start working on this post, I quickly realised it’s now tainted by one too many difficult client calls. So my bedroom is officially off limits. My small incense-infused, crystal-coated sanctuary will remain exactly that. A place to regroup, to relax into some yin yoga and to get a restful night’s sleep. I hope all my fellow tiny-home city-dwellers are managing to do the same.
6) I’m a closet introvert: For some odd reason, this self-discovery genuinely surprised me. As a vivacious, life-of-the-party kind of gal, I don’t think I’ve ever fully appreciated how much pleasure I get from doing things alone. I should have known, really. I will happily spend all of Sunday’s daylight hours shut up in my bedroom typing away at this old thing. Or devouring a new book. And even six weeks into self-isolation I find myself avoiding Zoom calls and WhatsApp groups like the plague. Because I’d still rather be alone: reading, writing, painting, thinking. And though I do miss my nights out, it’s been sheer bliss indulging in so much me time. And I certainly plan to schedule more solo staycations going forwards — just me, my books, my blog and an overly-priced but divinely scented candle.
7) Baths are life: Whilst we’re on the topic of alone time, is there anything better than a steamy hot bath? I think not. Of course — these are not new to my world. I’m a long-time bath lover. Give me a close-to-scathing bath, some delicious magnesium salts, a strong aromatherapy oil and a good book and I’m yours forever. But given that I’m now spending 99% of my time indoors (minus my one allotted outdoor exercise per day), I decided to splurge on a little bath upgrade. This bad boy: a genius bamboo bath caddy to rest all my bath essentials and enhance my at-home spa experience. And let me assure you, my bath game has never been stronger.
8) It really is the simple things: I saved the best (and perhaps most obvious one) for last. But ‘tis true, right? Life is nothing if not the simple pleasures that bring us joy. The morning sun glimmering through those springtime boughs. That first sip of black coffee (the kind to put hairs on your chest), even when you know it’s going to be a b*tch of a Monday. That cheesy song (on repeat) that will forever make you break out into dance. A long heartfelt phone call with your momma that was only meant to last twenty minutes. Perfecting the proportions of your Saturday morning blueberry pancakes.
Travel reminds me to slow down, to savour the small things. Ordinary life doesn’t. It forces me to move at pace, to keep up, keep going, keep growing. Or, as the kids are sugarcoating it these days, to glow up. Lockdown has been a nice reminder to also live more ordinary days in slower motion. It may not come naturally (refer to point one) but it’s certainly worthwhile. Blissful, even. So here’s hoping this last one really sticks, and I remember to hit pause (and scrap my to-do list) a little more often when we finally come out of our home-caves and resume life in the New Normal.
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