Isolation stories: week three
As we entered week three and the age of Aquarius, under a pink super moon, Boris was admitted to intensive care with Coronavirus and it felt like the world had gone mad. Was he gonna make it? This was the question on everyone’s lips.
I started jogging. Who hasn’t? Ate three massive bags of salt and vinegar crisps in a week (hence the jogging) and crafted Easter bunny ears for the puppy. I walked barefoot through the park, sat and listened to birdsong amongst the trees, waved at friends through their windows and got ready for an online date… applying makeup for the first time in days, choosing a cool shirt yet wearing jogging bottoms on the bottom, because well he wasn’t gonna see them was he?
At our place we hosted an online fire sound journey in the garden under the full moon, celebrated Easter with a BBQ, indulged in six loaves of tasty free sourdough from my sister and binge watched Unorthodox on Netflix… there’s a scene in a Berlin nightclub where everyone’s dancing, sweating and slithering around skin on skin. Wow I miss that! I miss human touch. How long do we have to wait until we can snog someones face off in a club?
I tried my best to tune out of the news all week and remain positive, but it wasn’t easy, especially when we were all wondering if the prime minister was going to survive (not that I’m a Boris fan fyi, but no one wanted him to die, apart from a few absolute horrors on social media).
I’d actually been holding it all together pretty well, until Good Friday when I was approached by a warden as I was stretching on Hackney Marshes; “we’re asking everyone to keep moving this weekend please” and that was it, a sadness suddenly overwhelmed me. A sadness about not being able to meet up with friends, go out for dinner, to a gig, sit on a picnic table (they’re all covered in police tape) or even stretch in the park.
Although I don't want the world to go back to how it was (something needed to change) and I’m enjoying this slower pace of life, I'm really missing the simple things and the freedoms we once took for granted. Grieving for parts of my old life and missing my pals, yet staying hopeful that something amazing will come out of all this. Plus it’s spring, the blossom is in full bloom and the sun is warm on our faces so it ain’t all bad.
Week three in photos below, thanks so much for looking.
