SpoonfulOfDreams

CoVID-19  Day 42 While this pandemic has put everything in stark relief, the short memory of the public and its gravity towards messages of comfort and national pride continually dull its perceptivity and grind off the rough edges. While we each can generally hold two conflicting realities in tension there is inevitable public consensus in what is often referred to as the narrative. It’s that narrative upon which our government relies because without the binder labelled “We are beating this”, written in indelible ink, the loose pages would tell a confused and shocking story. The solidarity with front line workers and agreement that we should continue the lock down are both brittle and precarious. unless we address the future while dealing with the now the future present will be worse The enemy is silent and invisible and regardless of the education we’ve received about the Coronavirus it’s difficult for us to grasp what it really is. Maybe the most dangerous thing about a v

CoVID-19  Day 41 It was May Day yesterday but today would have been the May Day celebrations in Lancaster’s Dalton Square and on the streets. So instead there’s a virtual celebration — march round your garden or living room if you wish — and I’m part of it. That we refuse to go back to normal must be the reality It’s weird because I’ll be watching myself, pre-recorded. It’s great that we are using technology to overcome the obstacles and it shows a determination that we will press on regardless. But each conversation, conference, rally and get together adds to the tension, amplifying the dissonance. We can’t live like this indefinitely. I can’t say I’m feeling the walls pressing in on me. I have the luxury of my own space and I can walk out onto the beach. What’s crushing is the sense of the world writing it’s own obituary. I should move on from this because it’s too depressing but it must be said. That we refuse to go back to normal must be the reality, not another hope.

CoVID-19 Day 40 Please imagine I’m up-to-date with my diary and I’m not writing 2 entries the same day to catch up. Please imagine I’m doing this for the benefit of my readership and not pandering to my own sense of self respect (of which there’s little — evidently). I don’t know what day I’m on. I’ve had to check what the number was yesterday before starting today’s drivel. I’m in panic mode and I don’t know why. There’s no pressure on me and I don’t know what anyone’s expectations are so why am I bothered? Anyway, less about me. How are you doing? ………………… ………………… ………………… ………………… ………………… ………………… ………………… ………………… ………………… ………………… sorry, am I talking to myself? Well no, I’m talking to my phone which is worse than anything. My head is spinning. Too much information and not enough hugs. It’s mental (am I allowed to say that). But it is! Let’s carry on with this monologue pretending to be a conversation. My day, which was yesterday, was like doing a jigsaw of a green cat in front of a g

CoVID-19 Day 39 I think there’s a pattern. I have a good day then a bad day, then a day where I get back in the saddle - its ‘in’ rather than ‘on’ isn’t it? And I’m now back into writing in the morning — I guess that’s just part of the rhythm. So its the morning of day 40 and I’m writing up day 39. Am I going on? We need the earth and we need each other. Screw everything else I don’t know what to think right now. I’ve written about rhythms and patterns and now I’m thinking ‘grooves’. Someone once said that a rut is simply a grave with its ends knocked out. Put another way, a rut is just a very long cul-de-sac, the difference being that cul-de-sac’s and no-through roads warn you beforehand whereas ruts just seem to suck you in. While some are saying this crisis has the potential to change some fundamentals others are seeing the fundamentals being bolstered so that they are impervious to change. The surge in community spirit, on the other hand, is just that, and can be blown

CoVID-19  Day 38 I know my days see-sawed before the virus struck but the rhythm wasn’t so noticeable. We are all in a Mexican wave rising on the applause for NHS workers and sinking with latest death toll. CoVID-19 has its own rhythm but that’s not what drives our wave. I was up two days ago then down again today. But while our mental health is more brittle under the constant stress of unknowing and lack physical contact, that only explains the rawness, not what drives the moods. Life is a series of negotiations, playing cause against effect and actions against consequences Earthquakes devastate communities but much less so when the building are built to withstand them. When you travel through Greece you see new homes constructed around frames that will move as a unit during an earthquake. When you build something hoping against acts of God you are living in denial; that you are not subject to the same laws as others; that you are a specia

CoVID-19 Day 37 It has rained before during the lockdown but today was a proper day of rain. Though some have wondered if the cleaner air, as a result of the lockdown, was causing us to have such a sustained bout of sunshine still it had to break. True, particulates in the air do allow the precipitation of moisture in the atmosphere but there are natural seeding devices such as salt and sand thrown up by waves and as we live by the sea and near mountains which drive warm air upwards there’s hardly need for pollution. I created myself some masks this evening though I’ve not worn them in anger yet. All it required was a T shirt and a pair of scissors and made a pretty effective mask. There’s no sewing involved so that’s good. And I watched my second conference in 2 days on dealing with racism. Yesterday’s concerned racism within the Labour Party uncovered by the latest leaked report which revealed some awful racism where there ought not to have been any (as if

  CoVID-19 Day 36 Wake up — its dark. Check the time — 4am. Back to sleep. Its getting light — 5am. Its 6am and I’m checking stuff on my iPhone. My eyes are clear because I despatched the sandman an hour ago. I will be tired but am not feeling it now. Hello Monday. My mind is at its best when I wake up. That’s when ideas spark and deep thoughts surface with little resistance. If only I could divide my waking time into parallel lines of meditation and productive action I’d have life cracked. We double account our lives, bemoaning the time we wasted obsessing about one thing when we could have broadened our horizons; and marvelling at that guy who dedicated his life to a singular passion at the expense of a world of experiences. Accepting a 60% failure rate is the gateway to enjoying the other 40% If we’d spend less time worrying about misadventures, checking all the options and comparing our failures with others’ successes we’d live better l