The set up
It is the morning of Saturday 28 March, a week into staying and working from home as a result of protecting myself from the unknown enemy called, corona virus or COVID-19. I am sitting in my spare bedroom, having a bright light from the skyline, with a soothing yet inspiring compilation from Karl Jenkins Alegretto and I’m reflecting on what happened all of sudden in the space of the last few weeks and months.
Interestingly enough, the last time I was inspired to write my blog was when I wanted to share my feelings that were evoked from dancing tango at close embrace. Lack of time and procrastination didn’t allow me to put down my thoughts on this and now it seems that whatever feelings and thoughts close embrace evoked on me, they are slightly forgotten. There will be no embrace, close or distant, for quite some time. However, now that I have the gift of time there will be a blog about my last close embrace encounters pretty soon. The feelings that came into my mind at the time will probably be somehow different, but my lovely memory has kept them safely somewhere in the back of my mind.
Life took a different turn, somehow unexpectedly, in a way where radical changes emerged which we all must adapt to. Changes that, under what used to be normal life, one would experience if he or she was a recluse, suffering from illness that required home recovery or because of mental health challenges like depression. But I’m getting a bit too dramatic here and perhaps not entirely fair to reality.
Denial at first
Although daily news about corona virus and the way it was affecting one country after another like a domino dominated our lives for the last two months, my approach up until a week and a half agos was denial. I didn’t want to believe that it was anything more serious than a simple flu, I kept going for my tango lessons which I picked up seriously again last month and refused to acknowledge that it will have an impact in the UK in the same way that it had in other countries. That was probably up until the word pandemic came out to describe it.
The daily news concentration only on this topic was annoying me and my lack of awareness of the seriousness of the situation didn’t allow me to at least mentally prepare for what was coming. As a naïve butterfly, all that mattered was my day off that I planned for last Friday and which I was looking forward to it as I haven’t had a break since Christmas. The day was planned to be an indulgent pampering day with my Highgate friend including a car trip to the Highgate Suite, smoothie and light healthy lunch at the cosy café of Cowshed at Primrose Hill followed by an hour long massage, a walk afterwards (if weather allowed us to) in Primose Hill’s villagelike area of grand Victorian terraces and pastel-coloured Regency townhouses and an evening dinner at The Petersham Restaurant in Covent Garden. Sounds like heaven? Well your thinking is correct and that is how it was making me feel but unfortunately it got cancelled.
My mother kept asking me why I was still commuting, why have I not stopped dancing, why am I still seeing friends and she was getting on my nerves. I refused to acknowledge that the virus was something to worry about or something that would change my everyday life. I felt that I’m strong and immune, that it isn’t easily transmitted and that it is not going to happen to me. I felt that I don’t want to stop life, I don’t want to stop my happy moments and that I won’t be one of those who worry. All the news felt too distant to me, but there was a turning point when I started questioning whether I should carry on. I asked my friend, who we go to tango with in my new space, if we should continue and she said “I can see why you’re concerned but isn’t the love of tango stronger that your concern?” And at the time my need for tango was hard to resist, so we went for our lesson. There were only a few brave tangueros like us. The teachers didn’t allow us to practice close embrace and our social milonga after the lesson got cancelled.
And then the day came that news started sounding quite serious and I received email after email about tango lessons being cancelled, art galleries and exhibitions closing down and plays being paused . Within the space of half a day, one by one all my favourite experiences were starting to disappear. My last escapade before reality kicking in was at Covent Garden a couple of Fridays ago after work for some small retail therapy. The otherwise buzzing and not being able to walk through iconic Piazza, Apple Market, restaurants and fashion stores were completely empty. Walking around the almost deserted from tourists and Londoners streets, gave me the sense of being one of the last remaining survivors in the aftermath of a war or the most foolish person who was defying the laws of the virus. While it was a joy to browse through Zara and have the store to myself, it felt eerie and uncomfortable. The purpose of my visit originally was to find a new dress for my dinner with my friend on my day off as it was a special occasion, but as at the time it was touch and go of whether it would still happen, it felt pointless to make the expense. Instead, I bought a nice new perfume and a cute summer bag both of which gave me a happy little moment.
My other visit was to Whittard as I was looking for a special coffee blend. The shop itself is such a joy to be in and browse through, with its beautiful display that takes your imagination into a serene and very British world, where Mad Hatter from Alice in Wonderland will jump out to offer you a cup of tea. Having found my special coffee blend and paying for it, I found myself being mesmerised by the different varieties of tea, the elegant packaging and the gift options and found it difficult to walk away from all this magic.
On the way home I was quite emotional, as I started to realise that something is happening after all which is impacting Blighty too. Yet at that point none of it was making sense to me and I couldn’t understand how was it possible to be happening. Being physically and emotionally tired, I parked the thoughts for the evening and felt content with my little treasures.
Walking away from daily routine
During the weekend, my Highgate friend and I decided that we shouldn’t go ahead with our plans for my day off. It saddened me at first having longed for it, but I understood that it was the right thing to do. Instead, I thought that I could take advantage of the emptiness of London to visit my beloved St Paul’s Cathedral, which has been on my bucket list for quite some time and inexcusably not ticked off yet. Alas, that didn’t happen either.
Events changed overnight rapidly and on a Tuesday afternoon a week ago, our boss called in an emergency meeting with the whole team and announced that from the next day we would start working from home. Although we were getting ready for it, the abrupt imposition of it came down to us like a thunder. One by one colleagues were walking out of the office saying goodbye as if we were not going to be there again. In the absence of hugging we crossed elbows to note our affection. Apart from the occasional here and there working from home in order to complete projects that require quiet concentration, for me as well as many other colleagues who are used to working within a marketing buzzing team, the notion of “indefinite working from home” was unthinkable.
The announcement about avoiding pubs, restaurants and other places of entertainment which came out on the previous evening didn’t deter a rebel like me accepting an invitation from my boss to go out for a drink after work on that Tuesday evening. We chose the “grown-up” pub close to Mile End station to enjoy being in each other’s company for what looks like the last time for quite a long period. Perhaps this was the reason why totally unlike me, I drunk a bit more than my happy tipsy level but loved the carefree feeling that it brought me and the liberation from worrying of what will be. What was important was that in all this doom and gloom a happy moment was created which gave me hope that all would be OK.
A new daily routine with lots of walking
Despite the fact that I still cannot make any sense at all of this new invisible enemy that has walked in our lives, I realised that fear of the unknown or of the details surrounding the situation wasn’t going to help me cope. I also realised that when there is no choice you need to suck it up and find the good things that are connected with the new status quo.
In all fairness though apart from not being able to go in the office, at the moment I don’t see the notion of staying home as such a big menace as others seem to feel it. Since I’m blessed with my creative hobbies that can be done from home, namely my watercolour painting, my blog writing, piano playing and my crafts, self-isolation does seem feasible.
So, the spare bedroom on weekdays has turned into an office space, with currently a slightly uncomfortable set-up comprising of my ironing board, which I cover with a throw and placemats to disguise it into a desk, and a wooden chair from the dining table. Although I could opt for the convenience of the dining room table, the decision was made to keep the living/dinning room and master bedroom separate from the working space, so that my little castle still feels a separate chapter from my working life. On a positive note, the spare bedroom has a better light during the morning which comes through the skyline and for that reason it makes it a nice option. The stiff chair and inability to position my legs in a comfortable position, is offset by me ensuring that I take regular breaks through the day to stand up and stretch my legs and back rather than be totally absorbed by the screen of my work laptop.
The most delightful change though this week is my wonderful morning walks which I’ve decided to introduce into my daily routing in lieu of my commuting time on the train. The weather was our ally this week, with a glorious sunshine every single day from dawn to dusk. Although there was frost and mist very early in the day, the sunshine provided the most beautiful walks by the canal that I’ve experienced in Hertford in a very long time. It gave me the opportunity to reconnect with my beloved canal pathways and reminded me the beauties for the scenery that surrounds me and which I haven’t engaged with for well over a year since I’ve started working in London and indulging in the city’s delights. The amazing early morning sunshine light and the first signs of spring trying to break through have been captured with my camera. Sharing them with my friends to keep the morale up, gave me the excuse to find angles of capturing the scenery as if I was seeing it for the first time despite the fact that I have been commemorating it on various occasions in the last seven years that I’ve lived here.
The epilogue
A lot has happened during the first week of our new way of life and at times it felt hectic and overwhelming. However, at the end of each day I make sure that I take a moment to take stock of the happy moments and be grateful for being well and still having my smile. I’m not sure if my feeling of positivity and hope will keep strong in the coming months when things will get a lot worse before they start getting better, but I’m still a dainty flitting butterfly who wants to fly. And even though my butterfly daemon is limited in flying only every morning, as long as she has wings and a strong heart it will survive.
Visit the photo gallery to view more photos from my lockdown daily morning walk.
Walks and Smiles 