Consolations and silver linings

My nest had been an empty one prior to the virus situation but as things worsened in the UK my daughter and her partner came home to roost. We all locked down together and it was a bit of a shock to the system, but not an unpleasant one. Life took on a very chilled tinge, nowhere to be and all the time in the world to do, well, nothing much.

Both are personal trainers, so I took the chance to sign up to morning workouts, route marches, and I have to say it’s been great. I feel fitter, trimmer, and we have avoided getting on each other’s nerves – so far.

So, life is suddenly very, very different, full of laughs and fun, lots of cooking, trying to give one another space (as we are all used to having plenty of it), and gaining an ever-increasing awareness of what is making life bearable.

It’s a scenario being played out in most households on the island as family units grow or shrink through necessity, some people having to either go to stay with friends or relatives while others are forced to live solo. The shift has been huge for many of us and I know that not everyone has found it easy.

My role as a community peer support organiser and facilitator with Guernsey Mind has certainly changed. I, like most other people, now work from home and while I no longer do the face-to-face meetings all my groups still exist online. The Zoom site has become a daily occurrence for me. Our choir still meets up every Tuesday evening, the Walk and Talk on Wednesday afternoon and the Women Matter group meets up to talk on Friday afternoon. We also run a daily morning coffee club where a regular gang meet to chat and give a bit of structure to their day. People tell me they feel supported and many who live solo enjoy the morning catch up. I do too.

What has lockdown meant to others?

I know that exercise is playing a huge part in the lives of many people. Walking and cycling, and for the brave, swimming, has become a daily routine. I know many people who had not been out walking the bays and cliffs for years and they have loved rediscovering the beauty of our coast and cliff paths.

Colleagues and friends are now enjoying sunrise and sunset swims, others are now posting beautiful photographs of landscapes and birds – and families.

Most of the people I know who have gardens are out there at dawn and dusk, weeding, planting and generally pottering the hours away. They are swapping seeds and plants (at a distance) like Alan Titchmarsh on speed and I have found myself talking to my fledgling courgettes. I also got overly excited that a friend kindly delivered a tray of butternut squash plants. It felt like Christmas. Suddenly small acts of kindness mean so much.

And the most surprising people are taking up all sorts of pursuits they never thought possible. A vicar friend of mine has started baking and is kindly handing out starter kits of sourdough, another friend has decided to learn Mandarin while the friend of a friend in the UK is trying to make it on Youtube with hints about the proper way to cut a fringe and tutorials on ‘do it yourself bobs’. Incredible.

Another friend has taken up quilting and has just taught her daughter how to crochet. Crafting is helping keep a lot of people occupied and I have also joined the ranks of those who have got their painting gear out – the canvas variety, that is.

On a more serious note, many of those who I have had dealings with – five weeks down the line of lockdown – have had a major rethink about their lifestyle. One or two have owned up to not being able to contemplate going back onto the treadmill of everyday corporate life, but I know that eventually we all will do just that – to some degree. Hopefully humbler, kinder and more understanding of how life can be when we take our foot off the pedal.

I have heard many people say that lockdown has been a sort of weird enforced blessing in disguise as they have enjoyed life in the slow lane and found a different appreciation for the simplest things in life.

For me it has been sharing a flask of tea after walks and swims and simply breathing in the smell of gorse and taking in the beauty and ever-changing colour of the sea. I have learned that I really don’t need big gestures to make me happy. And I know I am not alone in that.

Above all, what has been heartening are the amazing community projects people have created. Many on social media encouraging people to think of others and try new hobbies and pastimes. I have loved seeing people like Chris Dean, Jim Delbridge and Aindre Reece-Sheerin sharing their talents on Facebook too.

And volunteering has gone off the scale both nationally and locally. How amazing is it that St John have 200-plus volunteers willing to talk to anyone who is in isolation or struggling to cope?

Not forgetting all those who are offering their time to shop for those less able to get out, people out there delivering meals on wheels and deep cleaning the ambulances that have transported Covid-19 patients.

For me, lockdown has shown us all the power of friendships and how they define us daily. I have also seen such a huge tidal wave of community spirit and kindness sweeping over us, and that is what I will take from this surreal time of our lives.

Most of us admit to feeling as though we are in a disaster TV movie... though our politicians and States committees and teams have been amazing. For once we have stopped nit-picking and being critical of our leaders. We are united in feeling proud of how they are keeping us fully informed, supported and confident with how they are handling this unprecedented emergency.

Each week we are out there clapping out our support for health workers and I for one would like to bang on a few saucepans for Ms Brink and Ms Soulsby, Messrs St Pier, Whitfield, and Rabey, together with all their backroom teams who have stepped up to the plate in spades.

I am grateful to have been given some precious quality time with my daughter, who I know is itching for a new adventure, no doubt far-flung. But I will cherish our long early morning walks, chats, laughs and rare moments of simply being happy to be in the same room with no words needed.

I think Guernsey has woken up to be a community as one. Guernsey Together has been our strapline and it has certainly pulled us through and shown us we can stop whingeing and start being grateful to be living somewhere so incredible.