We are three weeks into the MCO. For the most part we seem to have transitioned into some sort of new normal. The complaints in Whatsapp groups have more or less ceased as people find a way to live with their co-habitants. Occasionally I hear from my friends from Europe who are more or less in the same situation - all hail globalisation - and we marvel that in Sweden they're still allowed to have gatherings not more than 50 people. It's amazing how quickly that became an anomaly, instead of our collective house arrests.
Looking back at the last three weeks I guess I've been quite productive. There was work, so I worked; I went into nesting mode and cleaned and tidied and gardened; I've been blogging quite consistently, even though I've been trying to find other outlets of expression as well. I'm trying to figure out the line between producing something consistently and producing something of quality. The daily blog is a bit of a checkbox to tick, because there's only that many hours a day that I can devote to writing (I spend an average of 1.5 hours every evening to write here) and sometimes I post just because I have to and not because I am happy with what I've written. Is this a good exercise to rein in the perfectionism, or just a meaningless chase after a random resolution that I made, that I'm just following out of stubbornness? I can never decide.
In the meantime I continue trying.
Sometimes I feel that there's not much to say, because things don't change that much day to day within the 100 square metres that we're in. We wake up, we make coffee, we skip breakfast. We work, I play (Leo does not play. He only works.), we figure out lunch. We work, I try to do something creative, we figure out dinner. Sometimes during the evenings we watch a movie together.
But I've felt more in tune with my internal rhythm. Without the noise of work travel and endless social obligations, I've been listening to myself better. I've had more slack to do nothing. I am better able to run with the fast days and be ok with the slow days. To discover what my "normal" actually is, and to respect that. To accept and also to celebrate my humanness of not being able to run predictably and efficiently like a machine.
I am really appreciating this little break from the outside world. I know that we are in transition to somewhere completely unpredictable and the future may be scary as fuck. But perhaps this is the break that will teach me resilience and how to survive the crazy world out there when we finally venture out.
We went out this morning to the supermarket and shopped. We've shopped for groceries about four times since the country locked down. The first couple of times we went big on cans and rice and food that can keep for a long time. The middle couple of times we transitioned into meat to freeze in the freezer, and more fresh stuff. Now this morning we've moved on to baking supplies and snacks, because we've realised that while snacks and sugars may be bad for health, they do have the important function of keeping us mentally satisfied.
In the near term I'm going to bake apple pie and chocolate chip cookies. Empanadas are also in the list.
A grand total of one seed out of the whole tray has sprouted. I am disappointed but also thankful that at least there was one. I may set out to sow the second round of seeds soon I guess.