Time and Gratitude in the Midst of COVID-19

There’s something surreal about living through events that will go down in history. I know we all feel it right now — this sense of living out lives that should only be the subject of dystopian novels and history books documenting people who existed long before us.

In 20 or 30 or 50 years, children will have to memorise the events of the “2020 Coronavirus Pandemic”. As it has unfolded so far, we know there will be tragedy written about in those textbooks. Death, economic hardship, hoarding. “Which household item caused physical brawls in Australian grocery stores?” That might be a question in a future modern history test. Though the rest of the chapter — how much despair, what the other side will look like, and what we will learn along the way remains uncertain.

Right now, somehow, someway, this is our lives. And although my attitude is generally bleak about our short-term future in Australia, I try to remind myself to be positive. Eventually, this too will pass, and father time Kronos will resume the flow of minutes, days and hours at a normal pace.

At the end of it all, we will pick up the pieces. And maybe, just maybe, we will ask ourselves what we have learned in this strange time — as a nation, as a community, as a generation, as individuals. Some contend that we will awaken from this societal hibernation with a new world order. Certainly, things will not be the same.

And as much as there is fear, and uncertainty, and concern and frustration and all these negative emotions pulsing through our collective psyche right now, there is also hope. There is the knowledge that in order to get through this we must work together, we must remain hopeful, we must be resilient and positive and keep moving. Unlike war, the world here is united.

As one of many millions of people who are sitting at home in isolation, I’ve seen differences within myself. Considering that most of us are essentially confined to being inside, on the personal development and personal clarity, mindfulness and spirit levels there lies opportunity. It’s strange because you feel almost guilty for thinking about that — like hey, this typical millennial has found another way to turn a global pandemic into a self-centric journey of ‘finding themselves’. Makes me want to roll my eyes at myself.

But the reality is, we are stuck at home anyway, many of our businesses or jobs look quite different from what they did only a few weeks ago, and we suddenly have time.

Time. It was always the one thing in scarce supply and now it is, for individuals sitting at home, suddenly here in spades. It is our only personal resource. We don’t even have toilet paper anymore. (Or green lentils… seems like it’s the only kind of lentil people bulk-bought because the other colours are still around here and there. Weird.)

And there’s this trippy dichotomy there because, on the one level, the speed of infection and the exponential curve we face means that time is of the essence. At the government level, there is absolutely not enough time and we need to have done things yesterday.

But for some of us? Time is all we have.

How many times (heh) have you lamented to your friends or family that you wish you had an extra day in the week so you could learn a language, or pick up a new hobby, or learn to play an instrument, or write a book, or get fit, or start meditating, or read lots of books, or write poetry, or learn physics, or start planning that side business or creative project, or do that course you’ve been meaning to do for a few months. I am almost certain the words, “if only time could stop and I could hermit at home and get all these things done!” have come out of my mouth at least once.

Well, here we are.

And it’s not quite as simple as time having stopped, because of course for many of us we must still work. We must still care for our children and families. Some may read this and cringe, because they are at home with the kids, trying to work from home and home school and parent and get nutritious meals on the dinner table and find time for exercise and self-care too. For those people, I hope you’re doing well, and I know that time now seems scarcer than ever.

But for others, at home, without dependants…. Time hasn’t stopped but we’re getting pretty close, wouldn’t you say?

There is the added difference, of course, of this not being a positive period. It’s not, I think, a necessity that one comes out of this with an 8-pack and 3 new languages under their belt. This is not necessarily a stage where we must do heaps of things. On the contrary, some people will do no additional things. And that is totally cool too. When the world is underlined by fear, uncertainty, illness and death, no one should feel any pressure to achieve anything right now. Indeed, the main thing we all need to do is focus on getting through it, however we possibly can.

That being said, I have found a great opening for reflection.

We have been thrust into a slowed-down version of our usual existence. Everything is stripped back, and it’s a chance for introspection, prioritisation, value-exploring, creativity, and gratitude. In some ways, these things kind of force themselves onto you, because the usual noise of daily life can no longer drown them out.

It’s a time where you might still be socialising with people, but you are doing so at a raw level — there is no activity happening in the background, no trivia or sport or meal adding layers of meaning and enjoyment to your interaction. When you meet with someone now, it’s really just your voice, and sometimes your face, doing the heavy lifting. Some friends I’ve spoken to have told me how this has led them to conclude that some people in their life… well, they weren’t actually that valuable beyond the “fun night out” vibes the person brought. It’s hard to mask yourself in a zoom meeting, after all. If you don’t actually click with someone, and you can’t talk about things that are important to you, or you can’t push past the shallow niceties of generic conversation, it’s going to show. It’s hard to fake anything in this environment.

When it comes to relationships, we can recognise in this time who we have the urge to speak with — and who we don’t.

As we reflect, we can also think about what we really want and care about. We can appreciate the important things. And we can show ourselves that not only are we resilient, but we don’t necessarily need as much as we might think we do to find happiness. It’s almost like all the distractions have been taken away from the joy that is waiting within ourselves.

For those of us not on the front lines, the best thing we can do at this moment is stay home. And I’m sure that once we get through this, every family barbecue, every coffee out with friends, every great moment we share in person with another human being will feel sweeter than ever before. The comfort of a hand placed on an arm, the light that emanates from someone’s face when they laugh that you can only really see in person. I know I will not take for granted those little moments anymore.

For me, this time has led to a state of sort-of anti-ambition. This period feels like borrowed time: An intermission from real life where we can figure some things out. There are no societal expectations right now (except for being at home). It’s a weirdly liberating free-pass to do whatever you want — experiment with things you never had time for, try new business ideas, spend time thinking.

It has forced us to slow down, and for me, it’s a kind of nice place to be. I’ve always been one of those people obsessed with the future: Thinking about next steps, trying to pace life at 100 miles a minute, obsessing over what I will have completed in a month or a year or another 2 years. I always want the plan and the timeline and the concrete estimation of results, and I’m always looking for clarity in the future (which I suppose is not a unique trait). I was in the ‘busy’ club. But now I am not.

Now, like many others, I don’t feel this internal pressure that was propelled by the external pace of the world. Instead, I feel so much gratitude for things I didn’t think about nearly enough before. I feel present.

I feel even more gratitude for the love and support of and between family, even though our main connection is through FaceTime right now. For the internet, which allows us to consume all the information in the universe at 40mbps (I mean, the NBN is still not crash hot, right?). The internet which means I can learn to cook, and read great writing, and send memes to people and share my writing and operate a business. For a home where I can work and a cat that is a bit of an asshole but still great company. For health — my own, my family’s, my friends’. For those people you can call for a quick chat and suddenly it’s been hours. For online delivery and fresh food. (I don’t think I’ve ever been so excited by notifications that zucchinis and celery will soon be on my doorstep). For the hundreds of books I have here. For the present moment.

There is so much to be thankful for, and even though I’ve tried to practise gratitude for a number of years I’ve certainly never felt it with the intensity that I do now. Numerous studies indicate that practising gratitude can increase our overall wellbeing and happiness. As much as the big things in the world are pretty scary right now, it’s the little things that can keep us going. And beyond my own circumstances, I have a sweeping feeling of relief and appreciation for nurses, doctors, teachers, grocery workers. All these people that keep society moving even in adversity. For those who are spreading kindness in the community. And those who are working together to help out others as much as they can.

On the same note, I have also learned that most of the things I used to worry about were exceedingly dumb. You know, all the stupid things we focus on because they’re right in front of us. I suppose I always knew they were dumb, but now I really believe it. Now that they are further away, they’re pretty laughable. Things like mulling over that one thing I said in a meeting that I could have phrased differently, or was I empathetic enough in my response to that person? Or did that lady do my eyebrows too thin last time? Do they look absurd?

(I mean, to be fair, I don’t think I’ll go back to that eyebrow lady again.)

But for the first time, I think I really have perspective. I’ve always been a pretty high energy, highly-strung person (probably goes with the whole ‘busy’ club thing), but I have never felt personal calm like I have in this isolation period. And it’s opened up a lot of doors in my mind, frankly. I’d highly recommend riding the wave of slow motion if you can.

For some, the distraction of tragedy and the unravelling fabric of the society we know will simmer in the back of mind and make it feel like all creativity and inspiration is gone. And that’s why there is no expectation here. That’s why it is a free pass. Because in a time underlined by a global pandemic, sometimes you will need to sit around and feel crappy about it. Some people will need to binge Netflix and listen to 80’s music and eat pizza to get through this the best they can. And that is, again, totally cool. Because the main thing is getting through it.

But if you do experience, like me, a weirdly increased feeling of creativity and inspiration, now is the time to pounce on it. If you are inspired by the air of hope around, and the fact that there are millions (billions?) of people staying at home to essentially try and save the world, and the shared experience we are all having as global citizens, let that inspiration lift you up. For me, I have found so much more joy in writing for the sake of writing, cooking for the sake of cooking, and creating for the sake of creating. Doing things because they bring me joy.

It is a real chance to zoom out on your circumstances and think: What do I actually care about? What does a “perfect” life actually look like for me?

As much as I always made assumptions about myself, I am feeling very much like as long as I am connected to my nearest and dearest and given an opportunity to learn and create something, I am happy. And I don’t need a lot of the things I thought I did.

I think these introspective moments are far more powerful here and now because there is no pressure to come to a solution. And I have always found that with the really hard questions in life, when you push your brain too much to need to find an answer, the answer tends to burrow itself deeper into your subconscious. But in a pressure-free environment, the thoughts and energy flow more freely and become more astute more quickly. Like when you’re driving or having a shower and you come up with the greatest ideas known to man, compared to when you’re sitting at a desk hunched over and pleading with your brain to please be brilliant. And again, there is zero pressure now, because by sitting at home and doing the right thing, you’ve already won — you’ve done your bit for the world. Anything on top of that is surely a bonus.

Speaking with a friend recently (this morning? 3 weeks ago? Who knows?), we discussed how our authentic selves seemed to be emerging from what I am now calling the “Quarantine Chrysalis”. That is, with forced time in one’s own company, it seems like the impacts of societal influence slowly start dissolving off you.

Now is a point where, if you can (and by that I mean you have the mental and emotional capacity to — everyone is experiencing this differently), you might find new joy in old passions. Art, music, interests, learning — activities that didn’t serve enough of a “purpose” before might be a positive source of energy now. What would you do if you could do anything? What would your nine-year-old self want to do? I find this last question the most helpful.

I am certain that as a world, we will come out of this changed. But I am also certain that as individuals, many of us will come out of this changed, too. More appreciative, probably. More kind, perhaps. And more clear.

Some people will come back into the “real world” with the knowledge that actually, they hate their job and they’re going to try that thing they never tried before because they were scared. Or maybe, they’ll have learned that they love their job more than they ever realised and consequently find more fulfilment from it for the rest of their career.

Perhaps someone else will realise that all those people they surround themselves with serve as a neat distraction to accepting themselves and finding comfort in their own company. Someone else again might discover that they only convinced themselves that they wanted to be an accountant, but actually they’re a really creative soul. Some might find more love and appreciation for their partner. Others might break up because they realise now that they’re actually spending time together that they don’t really like each other much.

Some might find religion, or throw it away. Others might realise they’ve been walking a life path they never really wanted. Many people, unquestionably, will find more solace in nature as a result of this pandemic. I’m sure there are many layers that are there for us to find, new ways to think about our identity, new things we can learn whether introspective or prescriptive.

Some of those learnings might be personal, and some might help us all.

We aren’t going through life’s motions at the moment, and although it’s terrifying in one way it’s liberating in another. It’s a shock to the system but half of society’s time has exponentially sped up, and the other half’s has practically stopped. And if you are in the group who is lucky enough for time to have stopped, and to still have shelter, food, necessities and access to people you love (even if only virtually), perhaps you should embrace this new glacial pace as the world takes a breath.

Because when we take a moment to genuinely pause, our eyes might adjust to see what has been in front of us all along.

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Thank you for reading.

I wish you love and health in these uncertain times.