The person next to me on the train yesterday changed where he was sat twice before decanting his belongings on the small table in front of him and sitting down to enjoy a Pret sandwich. With his mask around his chin, I kept my own mouth and nose covered until my stop appeared from the expanses of green fields that surround London. Its been a while since I've been home home, understandably, and it felt strange to be back on a train I used to catch twice a day, five days a week. I chose the carriage labelled 'Quiet Zone' (no talking, no phone calls, no loud music) but it was very, verrryyy quiet. Free from the usual bustle of commuters that seemed to occupy those particular trains all hours of the day, I wonder if people miss the to and fro of coming into the city?
I did a mad hunt for podcasts prior to my journey because I wanted to listen to other people talk for a bit. (Emily tells me I should get a radio, maybe I'll invest). I stumbled across The Guilty Feminist before my bus tour across London while refusing to take the tube (this turned a half-hour trip into a 60 minute two bus marathon). I ended up missing where I was supposed to alight and I didn't catch the train I wanted to. Podcast was good though.
Once back home home I felt an immense sense of relief to be looking at a different view, as if the past five months have simultaneously compacted and loosened me up. (I have become both concrete and flubber). London, despite the lockdown, has been incredibly demanding, busy, overwhelming and stressful. I love it, of course, I love London with every shred of me, but I cannot convey how good it feels to be out, even if for a short while. After dinner, my parents took me out on their usual evening walk around the village and I got to thinking.
I am in this current mindset I can't shake which involves: Lockdown induced anxiety fuelled by perpetual fear of imminent death and/or feelings of helplessness at the general state of the world. Other symptoms include (but not always) bouts of self-doubt, panic and uncertainty, excessive nosebleeds as at very inconvenient moments and a decrease in self-confidence and self-worth.
Then I realised this:
Remedy: Administer one, slow evening countryside walk (if you're able to) on a mild summer evening, just as the sun is setting, to allow time for proper life contemplation. Look at nature, look at the sky, take a deep breath, look at the foal in the field with its mother. Remember when things didn’t feel so difficult and imagine what it would be like to ride a bike down that big hill again. Acknowledge where you’re at. Consider the benefit of talking to a therapist again. Look at the sun setting. Look at people's nicely decorated gardens.
Repeat if necessary.
To take in addition: A stroll through the wheat fields that grow behind the village church just like you're on your way to meet Mr Darcy in the early hours of the morning after his horrible aunt has given you an unnecessary bollocking. "How can I ever make amends for such behaviour?" Say hello to the guy walking his dog and talking loudly on the phone and thank God (I'm not religious) that your parents are your parents.
As I write this I’m lounging on a chair in the garden looking at a spotless blue sky listening to my neighbour having a zoom call through the fence. (Not intentional, his voice just carries). He sounds like he could be a radio presenter, or do the voice for Bob the Builder on the telly. I have a book in my lap and sunglasses to keep my hair out my face and I feel so relieved.
Lauren xo
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