Notes from Isolation - Week 1: Doing my bit "te-quil-a"​ virus and flatten the curve

What a week. Where do I begin?  

My week actually started earlier this month when the promise of sand, sunshine, and margaritas beckoned so I flew down to Mexico for a short break. Fast forward two weeks, and I find myself back in Canada, with a fading tan and kicking off a second week of self-isolation, wondering if my last shot of Mexican tequila was a symbolic last hurrah, as I now do my part te-quil-a virus or, at the very least, flatten the curve.  

If you know me or have been following my posts for a while, you’ll know that I normally try and look at the positive side of life (sorry-not-sorry). I’m usually a glass-half-full type of person and as I get older, I find myself even more so. Today, amidst the whirlwind of hysteria, scaremongering, propaganda, conspiracies and fake news I’m doing my best to take the route to search for the seemingly silver lining and for opportunities to express gratitude.  And despite the facts that are being presented to us today, as events and updates unfold by the minute, hour and day, there remains opportunity for this. I’m grateful for this.

Let’s start with opportunity. This is a time for us to practise stillness, to get beyond what we initially recognize as boredom and slow down, reassess and re-evaluate what’s important. Check in with ourselves, with others, read more, write more, innovate more, catch up on the ever increasing load of adulting we’ve been putting off – the bane of everyone’s life: life admin. Spring clean (in the current climate spring-cleaning to a much more clinical degree with something incredibly antibacterial, at least twice). Taking stock; out with the old, and making an effort to introduce less ‘new’. Becoming more resourceful and less wasteful. Understanding the true value of ‘things’. There’s something mentally cleansing about the physical act of streamlining – tidy room, tidy mind.

It sounds great doesn’t it?

Perhaps this is an opportunity to clear the ever-growing backlog of “stuff” that work and social life excuse us from ever getting around to. Not an envelope left to open, not an email left to file, everything unnecessary out of the way, space made for the things you do use and things you love. Knowing where each of those things are. Heaven.

Perhaps this is a chance for us to breathe. A chance for our planet and our world to breathe. A noticeable decrease in air pollution. In noise pollution. A chance for wildlife to flourish. I’m not a forestry or conservation expert, but I have seen ‘The Biggest Little Farm’ and it reminded me of how we can course-correct.  And I watched ‘Peanut Butter Falcon’. (You must watch Peanut Butter Falcon. Please. With all the time you have on your hands I’d recommend it - I haven’t seen anything as warming or fulfilling in ages. Watch it twice.)

I digress. This is all great, if it’s a luxury you’re afforded. But I realize that for many of us it’s not.

There are many of us who can’t sit this out at home on Duolingo learning a new language (¿Tienes papel higiénico?), picking up a past hobby and strumming on a guitar, doing life-art classes in our living room, or signing up to a multitude chef masterclasses in an attempt to become the cook you were never destined to be.

That rainy day that we were encouraged to save for? Guess what folks, it’s here. And unfortunately it’s not just a day. A large part of today’s uncertainty is that despite the many ever-changing predictions about how long this will last, no one actually has a bloody clue. What we do know is, "…that the present is pregnant with the future.” Cheers for that Voltaire.

I sit here eating the final crumbs of Doritos rations whilst still in my pj’s at 1pm. I realize it’s Mothers Day in the UK as I scroll through a bitter-sweet social-media feeds of elderly Mum’s separated from children and grandchildren by the double-paned windows of their care-homes and the screens of technology many are largely unfamiliar with. I’m reminded that there are people who were in isolation long before it was advised. Elderly without family, people with immobility issues, crippling anxiety, agoraphobia, people who felt alone amongst the ever increasing population; people bullied or who feel alien amongst their community, those who feel isolated because of a lack thereof.

Then there are the psychological effects. The fear of catching the disease, the fear of our loved ones catching the disease. The stress of not knowing how to cope with whatever problems this pandemic will present. The frenzy it’s sending ill-informed and panicked parts of our society into is seeing us descend into Black Friday / IKEA sale-like mania. Videos of fights breaking out in grocery stores are making their way onto Instagram or being shared on Facebook make for anxious and difficult watching. You’d hope the idea of isolation would encourage standing still and taking a deep breath, a greater humility and more care for one another, a rise in localism and a strengthening of community. Not fighting over toilet paper and hand sanitizer.

As the number of cases rise, sadly so do the deaths – the most vulnerable and most susceptible being those already suffering with other illnesses and the elderly. In a world that often seems to lean towards prioritizing the lives and wellbeing of those who are well, will this be a time that reminds us that those less well, fortunate or capable deserve an equal standing in society? The world could do with a bit more altruism. The people making a real difference are those making themselves vulnerable in order to care for those in greater need. These are the real heroes - the doctors, nurses, healthcare and social workers, police officers, firefighters, and already under-paid and over-worked, will be called upon further. The importance of services already under strain, understaffed and underfunded will surely be highlighted. But when all is said and done and we return to whatever normal will then be, will this be remembered? I hope so.

As I type, laws are being passed to halt mass gatherings and I can’t help but think about the old sayings ‘Strength in numbers’ and ‘Together we stand, divided we fall’. How do we come together when we quite literally cannot?

I started this blog saying that I was a glass-half full type of person and yet I feel like everything I’ve touched on thus far is ‘doom and gloom’. I’ll get to my point. The silver lining. Ultimately it comes down to a simple idea. The way to feel positive emotions in these uncertain times is by embracing the vulnerability we all feel at the moment – and don’t run away from it.  You can endure struggle.  And the best way to tackle complicated, multi-faceted problems is by doing it together, in teams. In fact, going-it-alone is probably the worst approach. Given our “physical-distancing” restrictions, we just have to be a bit more creative in what that means. The power of technology makes this easier. #InItTogether

While we are physically separated from each other it’s critical that we maintain connection. And the key to connection is being open with each other. Helping each other. Asking for help.  And thinking of each other. We connect by simply being our true and authentic selves with each other – our family, friends, colleagues, and communities.

Right now, more than ever, I’m seeing what the power of vulnerability unlocks in all of us. In fact, this is the time where the bonds of connection become so incredibly powerful.  When we have the courage to check-in on each other, even when it feels like stepping across sometimes  unspoken “professional line”; when we demonstrate kindness and compassion as the norm for the workplace; when we look for opportunities to help each other.  This is how a culture of vulnerability maximizes connection when we are all apart.

So, I guess that’s where this blog ends, with a question, or with a leaving thought…

In a world post COVID-19, after having jumped out of our hamster wheels and having reconnected with the real world and with our vulnerabilities, will we be able to carry on forward having broken the all of the habits which make us ugly and broke our planet – our excessive, wasteful nature; our greed?

One thing I hope is that when all this is over, the world will have remembered what actually matters, and be a place that’s just a little bit kinder. And for me that’s the silver lining.

For any front line workers – doctors, nurses, healthcare and social workers, police officers, firefighters, grocery store workers, pharmacy workers, food-bank volunteers – reading this post, I want you to know that you’re our heroes right now.  You are causing gratitude to spread faster than this virus ever will. Thank you for your courage.