oh! what a lovely lockdown
The pandemic has dramatically changed our ways of living and interacting. During the last six or seven months I’ve spoken to people who are blasé in the extreme and still doubt the existence of the virus, to individuals who remain terrified of catching it and have seldom ventured out, and to an unlucky few who hope they catch it and it kills them, so demoralised and defeated they have become. Consequently, it’s clear that the continuing crisis will elicit fundamental and long-standing changes in society.
“A revolutionary moment in the world’s history is a time for revolutions, not for patching” William Beveridge boldly declared as his post-war reforms, including the welfare state, were ushered in. In times of emergency we understandably fall back and rely on the nation which alone has the financial muscle and wherewithal to weather such proverbial storms. And along the way we’ve rediscovered that nurses, cleaners, baristas, bin-men, shopkeepers, shelf-stackers and delivery drivers are the ones who keep the wheels of society turning. Middle class professionals have had to learn that statutory sick pay is a mere £94.25/week, an amount the Health Secretary, Matt Hancock, has openly admitted he couldn’t survive on.
The shrinking horizons we have all experienced have perhaps provided a snapshot as to how our own lives will reveal themselves in coming years. Advancing age often goes hand-in-hand with less travel, fewer friends, limited cash-to-splash, reduced work opportunities, a heightened concern for good health and longevity, and an increased reliance on the relationship with a particular loved-one and with the state. It’s as if the fast-forward button has been pressed and we are all experiencing these somewhat earlier than anticipated. The only upside I can offer is that we’ve potentially been given the chance to change things we’re not happy with!
With one notable exception, I’ve always been a small-town boy and remain the least travelled individual you’ll likely ever meet. The far-flung places I’ve had the pleasure of visiting have, by and large, left me somewhat underwhelmed and I’m now of the opinion that I’ll see the pyramids through the prism of others’ eyes and the Taj Mahal within the cover of National Geographic, so to speak. Furthermore, an inveterate people-pleaser, I’ve also finally found my voice in saying no. I don’t know who first coined something along the lines of ‘never say yes to something in the future that you wouldn’t be happy doing today’ but I’d gladly buy them a socially distanced drink as they remain pearls of wisdom.
So, as I look to the plane-less skies and delight in restrictions placed on our lives, have I become an insular, malignant, selfish hermit? I sincerely hope not, well at least no more than I always have been. I still consciously do things I wouldn’t otherwise necessarily choose to, as I want to remain a good friend, parent, confidante, employee (of sorts) and relatively well-rounded member of society, but saying no does bring about the quiet confidence of control, of self-care and self-support.
In ordinary times we exist within an economy predicated by continuous growth, constant advertising and an unfulfilled desire of attainment fuelled by keeping-up-with-Joneses. However, these extraordinary times are proving we can indeed live with fewer toys, gadgets, shiny baubles, distractions and experiences, with less driving, less travel and more distant vistas. In short, many of us can live with less and live with doing less.
