I’ve thought to myself over the past few weeks that if it’s one thing the world doesn’t need more of right now, it’s negativity and toxic energy. So I’ve kept quiet. I’ve worked from home for three weeks now, kept to my routine, cooked actual meals most days of the week, put my face on every morning regardless of whether I’ve had any meetings that day or not, honoured my commitments to myself and my gratitude group, et cetera. Goddammit, I’ve even BAKED. I’ve basically done everything you’re ”meant” to do in a self-imposed lockdown to not lose your shit. I still haven’t lost my shit but I’m not exactly jolly. I try to manage my thoughts to not get annoyed with all the self-proclaimed epidemiology experts and I try to be compassionate with friends and acquaintances abroad who shout at me about Sweden not being under full lockdown. I also try to bother caring about the fact that all my antenatal classes have been cancelled due to Covid and to not lose my shit about H no longer being allowed at the maternity clinic and at the postnatal care unit.
It’s hard. At the same time, I feel lucky to the point where I also grapple with guilt. This pandemic is doing an excellent job of unveiling exactly how unjust and unfair our societies are. Women and children living in unsafe homes across the world, now unable to escape even for work and school. Workers at the front line without the ability to protect themselves—and no, I’m not talking about healthcare workers, I’m talking about the people behind the till at your local grocery store. And that’s not to mention people losing their jobs, loved ones, and sometimes life itself. I feel exceptionally lucky to be able to work from home, and I feel exceptionally lucky that my home happens to be a house that has a garden. We’re healthy, safe, and well. Still, I’m not exactly jolly.
The one good thing about this is that I allow myself to not be jolly. I still get up and get things done. A bit slower than normal for sure, but I still show up. And I try to remind myself that this isn’t a blip. This isn’t life being on hold. This is life. It’s different for sure, but this is life now.