In my experience, the best therapy comes from friends. During a recent walk with a couple of mine, at a time when one of us was experiencing a family crisis, another made the comment above and it got me thinking.
Often, when the proverbial shit hits the fan and I am struggling to know which way to turn, I yearn for a simpler life – to jump back into the womb or retreat from modern society’s expectation to keep all my balls in the air.
And that’s especially true for women, who not only hold down jobs like men, but tend to pick up the slack when it comes to the emotional labour of most families.
Hence, we are more prone to find ourselves in those lonely, moments of vulnerability, when we question what it’s all about. And those experiences are even more common during this middle stage of our lives when our confidence may be shattered by hormone imbalances, the impact of ageism on our careers, and changes in our family dynamics.
However, in my experience, while the thought of an enforced recalibration can be scary, taking the time to sit back and reflect on what’s important is a good thing.
Which is what has surprised me most about the legacy of COVID – an unprecedented event that, sadly, appears to have had little effect on our our view of the world – in spite of the job losses, the devastating effects on our economies, and the appalling number of deaths. For in spite of the benefits of social distancing – and there have been many – I see very little evidence of any longterm change in habits of people in relation to the frantic pace of their lives.
Perhaps it’s an age-thing, but I like to think that this virus has taught me a new appreciation for the simple pleasures in life – a kind of enforced mindfulness. Whereas in the past, my dream holidays were about soaking up the fast-paced culture of foreign cities, these days I find Eat, Pray, Love types of experiences more appealing. And where once my diary was booked up months ahead, recently I have taken a much more organic approach to my social life.
Of course, some of us are still in survival mode. Here in Australia, Melbourne remains in lockdown, whilst in other parts of the world, the second wave of Covid gathers pace. And yet, for those of us for whom normal life has pretty much resumed, many have returned to it with little consideration for the lessons provided by COVID.
I mean, surely, some good has to come from this terrible reminder of the fragility of life.
Perhaps, it’s too soon to judge. Like misplaced insects, many of us have gone straight back to the safety of who we were before. And yet, it seems likely that Trump will maintain his presidency; the rights of women have taken a step backwards; there continues to be very little evidence of diversity in the media, in spite of the Black Lives Matter protests (WTF! ABC); and politicians still behave like kids in a high school playground, putting their personal agendas ahead of ours. The Australian government is pushing for a gas-lead recovery, FFS! (SMH)
I understand that change takes time, but I can’t stop thinking that COVID should have been the wake-up call we needed to prioritise compassion over power?
I want to believe that the world is fundamentally full of more good people than bad, so why do we keep electing the same narcissistic leaders who prioritise nationalism over equal rights, and rich over poor? Surely, if we can find the money to fund abortive space missions, Olympic Games, and – I don’t know – study the effects of the sun UV rays on the eating habits of the maggot, surely we can keep our social benefits at a humane level? If we can build casinos, and replace perfectly-good sports stadiums, surely we can build more social housing?
COVID highlighted the important things in life – friends, family, and our health. It showed that it is possible to be happy with less and that there’s nothing wrong with simply being content.