So in the UK the lock down is starting to be eased a little. All over the news there are various stories of the ways in which countries are easing things in a desperate attempt to get back to some sort of normality.
Whether I agree or disagree with each government’s approach (I honestly think it’s the hardest thing to control) we stuck by the rules and had a socially distanced barbecue planned for the weekend. This meant that it was my first Sunday with a plan in over two months. Wow.
As I showered at 1pm having done some productive things but mostly worked on my tan while reading my book in the garden, a thought came to me.
How was I rushing? How had life already come to being rushed again?
Throughout lock down my social media feeds have been swarmed with boredom but also people noticing things. Many have noticed how much time is in a day once you’re off the mad rush that is working life.
They have noticed nature, people, things about themselves that passed them by before. It has appeared as a wonderful revelation and one that most will want to stick in life post lock down. Yet, day one in getting back to some form of functioning society and I am struggling to find the time?!
Sunday is the one day a week that I get to experience lock down. For the past two months (though working a little on some) my Sunday’s have noticably been the slowest day of the week.
I have enjoyed slow mornings. Getting up slowly has been luxurious and enjoying a warm beverage before it has turned cold due to me becoming preoccupied with a matter of higher priority at work has been great. It really is the little things
It has been liberating to realise that I don’t know what time it is or where I have left my phone or having no limits to an acceptable time to relax with a large glass of red.
Even on mornings when I have crammed lots of writing and reading and planning in, feeling positive and productive, I will look at the clock to find it is only midday.
Truthfully, Sunday’s have become a beautifully happy blur like that feeling in between tipsy and drunk. You don’t quite know what’s going on and you’re gradually beginning to lose control, but it feels just lovely.
There I was on a Sunday with a plan. For the first time I had to rush. I had an hour to get ready and still struggled. My day suddenly felt exceedingly short.
I consider myself fairly organised and good with time management but there I was, failing. I’m not too sure how it happened, but maybe life post lock down won’t be slower.
Maybe modern life and the way we’ve shaped it can’t be slower. Or maybe we just need to find time amidst the chaos to give ourselves a mini lock down experience in stopping, appreciating, noticing and loving life.
[inserts hands in air emoji]
Hindsight is a wonderful thing, isn’t it?
