A month in lockdown: here’s what I’ve learnt
It’s been a month since the Campbell residence went into lockdown, and oh, have I missed a lot. The sound of a bellowing voice: “stand behind the yellow line”. The feeling of the wind that hits your face, and often makes me wonder if my eyelashes will fly away as I walk off the platform and up the stairs of an underground station. The view of Londoners going about their everyday lives, unbothered, unimpressed and too self-involved to look at one another, unless it’s a look of stop shoving me or get out of my way.
Other than the ‘joys’ that come with being a Londoner, there’s something to be said about the time that seems to have escaped us. Whether your experience in isolation has been one of productivity and triumph, or sorrow and angst; this time has taught me a lot about myself, my family and friends, and just how connected we are, in a time when everything feels so widely disconnected.
From four-hour Houseparty sessions that have me crying real tears as I laugh at a joke that under normal circumstances might not have been that funny, but in a time of anguish and dread, is the tonic I need. To tuning into Facebook live DJ sets on the weekend, that takes you on a nostalgic tour of your childhood as the DJ goes from spinning Soca classics to garage and funky house and then to old school RnB and rare groove music.
Albeit this time feels like the worst Black Mirror episode to date – although the Striking Vipers was pretty bad, but, that’s another post for another day. This reset feels like a second chance at life. Although a second chance that sadly, many won’t be able to experience.
It took joining an online webinar and hearing a speech from an overly zealous icon, for me to put this into perspective. The world, as we once knew it has changed, even when all of this is said and down, how we operate will never be the same. A level of gratitude and appreciation for those who we may not have been appreciated pre-corona has been reinstated. Egos that once stood proudly and wrongly should have shrunken so small they fail to exist. That part of you that accepted your role as a ‘taker of shit’ from that narcissistic boss, self-involved co-worker, or smug ‘friend’ has died.
Optimistic? Yes. But the fact that you made it this far should allow for some degree of optimism.
It’s been a whole month since my household went into lockdown, and it’s the small things that I miss more than anything. A month since I’ve been on a train. A month since I’ve laughed and grazed shoulders with friends. A month since I’ve sat in a restaurant opposite my latest crush. A month since I’ve been annoyed by tourists who walk ever so slowly in central London as I try to get from one meeting to the next. It’s the small things I miss, but it’s the loss of those little things that keeps my loved ones and I safe. A sentiment that not all can hold as they lose their love ones, but one that should be upheld, so that no one else loses their precious lives. Stay home and stay safe.
The easiest part of this all is staying at home; the hardest part is receiving a dreaded phone call that the person you once held hands with and laughed with is no longer with us. A call I hope none of you ever have to receive.
Opening image: @laurennicolefk