For the person who is anxious (and let’s face it, that includes pretty much all of us at one time or another) the current Coronavirus crisis is a rollercoaster ride unlike any other we’ve ever experienced.
For example, last night I played a series of silly card games with the people I’m locked down with, before going to bed knowing that I’m safe and secure among those I love. But at 4am I was wide awake, worrying if my days as a writer are over and if they are, what lies in store for me beyond this traumatic period? At 8am, however, I was up and out with the dog, drinking in the spring sunshine and listening to the birds at their joyful best, while walking on roads largely free of traffic.
An overnight shower has made the morning air even cleaner, clearer, than it has been these last few weeks. The stream by the field gently burbles, seemingly taking pleasure in the fact that it can finally be heard above the day-to-day noise of human activity. To misquote Dylan Thomas, the very houses themselves seem to be sleeping now. And I realise that in the midst of fear and tragedy, there is so, so much to be grateful for.
These simple responses to nature are, in fact, hugely powerful; so much so that I don’t really want to go back to how life was ‘before’. Sure, I want to meet friends and relatives, visit places, get on with my life. But do I really want a return to the inevitable stresses and strains of 21st century living? Does anyone? Despite everything – loss of income, fears for health, the looming shadow of death – I can’t remember a time when I felt calmer and ‘in the flow’. I look beyond these current troubles to a world in which there is most definitely such thing as ‘society’, and I hope and pray for a complete re-evaluation of the rights and responsibilities for every one of us in this post-pandemic society.
The lockdown period is providing us all with golden opportunities to assess our place in the world, and to create something new from confusion, chaos and fear. People are re-discovering old skills or having a go at new things. Many are getting used to working from home, and are wondering why they bothered to sit in endless traffic jams for so many years. Shopping as a participatory sport is dead, temporarily, and we’re being guided towards simpler, less expensive pursuits. We’re re-connecting with nature in a big way, and we’re learning to appreciate the people closest to us whom we previously took for granted.
There’s a strange feeling of utopia generated by this crisis that we shouldn’t ignore, even when the bells eventually ring out and the post-virus parties begin. For better or worse we will never forget this experience, and maybe we will begin to understand why our grandparents and great-grandparents often spoke of the Second World War as the best time of their lives. I used to think, given all the death and destruction of the era, that it was a strange thing to say. Now I get it, and I wait with anticipation to see what we will all do with the lessons we’ve learned during this extraordinary period.