Lockdown Gratitude
The possibilities created by being trapped in one place, have been astonishing. All I can do is marvel that the yogis were right after all. Stop, breathe and let the world come to you.
I was walking in the local park yesterday, musing and lost in thought on my daily walk. I’ve been living in Cheshire with my daughter since the start of lockdown and it’s been the most wonderful experience. I can’t think of any circumstance which would have not only allowed but forced me to leave my London home, put my cat in the cattery and give myself over to whatever might happen.
Both of us have been working from home throughout, her much more intensively than me, so we’ve had the luxury of time apart and time together. She’s cooked and I’ve cleaned, a more than fair distribution of effort given my skills in the kitchen.
I’m leaving for the trip back to London on Friday, with a leased car and the cat in a basket. I’ll be able to pop up and down between there and here for however many months this carries on, and for that I am more than grateful.
Several things have happened whilst I’ve been here and I thought it might be worth sharing:
1. I thought I couldn’t love my daughter more. I could and do. Watching and hearing her hard at work, so patient, calm and strong, seeing her be so careful to protect me, choosing movies together (not so many, as TV viewing has been rare over the last 12 weeks), and talking about our days and current events - these are the things you stop being able to do properly when visits are short and amidst otherwise busy lives. This twelve weeks has been an absolute godsend in every possible way, more of which I shall tell you below but, most of all, I am beyond happy for this time with my daughter, and our renewed and joyous relationship.
2. I thought I would never be able to ‘semi-retire’. As in, I felt I would always be stuck in London, taking only a few weeks a year for holidays. I love work - in fact I don’t want to fully retire at all, but I have yearned to spend more time with my son and family in Spain, to visit my daughter more and for longer, to visit old friends before it’s too late - but I’ve always felt I couldn’t be away from London and my clients. And lo and behold, it’s made no difference at all! I know, and more importantly, my clients know, that I can do what I need to do from anywhere. So I am free, finally!
3. I arrived here with a project - it’s one I’ve had on the go, burning a hole in my brain, for about two years. I used to write and coach/mentor a lot more than I do now. I wrote my book in 2014 and had a column as Madame Guillotine in Management Today for quite a while, then drifted away from writing apart from the odd blog (and a new fiction book which is killing me). Currently, I work inside businesses or as a Non-executive Director, but I wanted to extend my mentoring practice again. I missed that one -to-one connection and helping someone joyously push through challenges. That meant a new website, writing again, building a (say it quietly) PLATFORM for myself. Whereupon my imposter syndrome (yes, we all get it, apart from sociopaths) would kick in and stop me dead. Long story short, it’s done. I’m out there, creating new work and new purpose. and this work can last for as long as I do, lockdown or not.
4. Apart from writing for work and pleasure, I’ve gone back to writing for connection. Postcards, letters, notes and extended emails. The need for connection, for knowing that people I care about are ok, mean that I’ve Zoomed people I haven’t spoken to for years, responded to Facebook (!!) friend requests and, through them, remembered the things I’d forgotten I had ever done, like singing in the White House and being able to speak rudimentary Swahili.
5. And at the park, where we started, I met a lady, quite by accident. She was so utterly lonely that she literally lurked to talk to me, recognising, I think, in my silver hair a likely kindred spirit.. Within moments she had told me her life story; the baby who died shortly after birth, her career as an audiologist working with deaf children, her husband who. died just before lockdown. She has no other children or wider family; she had simply no one to talk to or to help her and was quietly, elegantly bereft. She must be one of many. I gave her my phone number and will try to meet her again, if she wants. We have an obligation to do this - to reach out, to talk to strangers, to put aside embarrassment, prejudice and fear and just connect with people. My heart breaks for her, and for so many who have not been so fortunate this time. In the midst of my happy reverie, she brought home the reality of loneliness for so many.
As I head back to London, I will be renewed, hopeful, thankful and determined to do and be more for myself and others.. I am blessed (I knew that). And I have work to do. We all have, thankfully.
