I had made a promise to myself that this was to be a time to do all those things that I never seemed to get the time to do. I was going to sort out that drawer, you know the one, where things just get put, like the remote controls for things you no longer own, odd bits of plastic or metal that are left over when you make up a bit of flat pack furniture, empty jewellery boxes and old broken pairs of spectacles. I was going to do that one and many others too. I was going to be living in splendid minimalism, only having things around me that bought me joy.
Before the lockdown I had been doing those sorting out jobs, slowly. I used the excuse of going out to work to explain why progress was slow, but now there’s no progress at all.
There was a plan attached to the task before; we were going to sell up and move to somewhere smaller. Our current home is bigger than we need, and basically we didn’t want the hassle anymore. Now the future feels so uncertain, making any plan for the future feels a bit ridiculous, so what really is the point in sorting out that drawer.
I used to believe that tomorrow would be pretty similar to today, next month and next year had a predictable feel to them. But really was that true? There has been a lot of talk about the risks that are being taken with this gradual release of lockdown, and the risks of staying locked down. We are all looking for answers, someone to tell us the way through these choppy waters. The truth there are no answers, or more accurately there are many answers, but no one knows which one will work out best. No one really knows what the future will look like, and they never did.
We have always lived with risks, some people are more comfortable with it than others, but we have been really good at recognising and managing them. We used to drive cars and motorbikes without seatbelts or crash helmets, as the vehicles got faster, and the roads more crowded we managed the risk of people dying in accidents by changing laws and designing safer vehicles. People still die in accidents, and we still get into cars and drive; sometimes too fast for the conditions.
Those old risks are so familiar we hardly even think about them. It seems we are going to have to learn to live with the risks this new virus poses. We will need to adapt and adjust, but we will get used to it. Maybe facemasks will be part of the answer, and we will be buying one in every colour to match our outfit. Articles will be written on which masks suit your face shape and haircut, and Primark will be copying the catwaik versions overnight.
In the meantime I’m going to get on and sort out that drawer, and tomorrow I’ll do the next one. Making plans for the future feels like the best thing to do right now.
A middle aged woman's attempts at a low carbon life 