It would be an understatement to say that 2020 has somewhat changed our perception of ‘normal.’ I’ve been in lockdown with my family since February, which then stretched into medically recommended self isolation once lockdown began to lift; as three out of the four of us are in high risk categories. Shops closed, utility bills were temporarily suspended, and – despite already working online from home – my client pool dried up to a bare trickle.
When I look out at the world, I see many people struggling to focus on anything past the new restrictions placed upon their lives. Many have thrown their excess energy and anxiety into creative pursuits – filling up the internet with crafts, art, entertainment, comedy, and endless positivity drives. Others seem to have regressed back to early childhood, their every communication sounding ever increasingly like an overtired child arguing with their parental units against bedtime curfew. It’s a bizarre state of affairs to say the least. It is a time of polarisation, where the angels and monsters in our midst are launching themselves into the light of day in droves all around us.
Aside from my earnings, for me – being a lifelong introvert at heart – not much of my day to day life has changed. Some things have a weird new twist to them, like having to wash and quarantine the monthly shopping deliveries before bringing them into the house, but I confess that I don’t miss going to the shops at all, and there is a big part of me that has really come to love the newfound peace. I don’t have to stress about who’s going to be coming to my door anymore – no having to put up with annoying architects, or frustrating but well-meaning builders, no gas delivery men, or meter readers.
I miss seeing my friends, of course, but I find that this new status quo has opened up a vast amount of time in each day; so much so that some days I don’t even plague myself with pangs of guilt at, from time to time, just putting my feet up and blissfully doing nothing. Better than that, with the peace has come a wonderful calm focus, allowing me to regain drive and concentrate on projects that, due to day to day stresses, have been sadly neglected and left sitting on the back burner for far too long.
I’ve never been a fan of the news – there is enough negativity in the world without all of the doomsaying of the tabloid-rag-level, play-pretend newspapers like the Daily Mail and the Sun, which clutter the newsagent’s shelves these days, screaming out at us that the world is out to get us and that everything and its uncle is going to give us cancer. Besides, the political world seems to currently be the domain of tantrum-throwing manchildren, rather than intelligent debate – it almost makes the Mail’s health and lifestyle pieces seem like Mensa level theses. These days I follow just enough to stay informed, but not enough to make me crazy.
So, what has all of the above rant got to do with travel and pilgrimage? Well, quite a bit actually. With the onset of Covid, came the beginning of a journey of personal discovery and re-prioritisation, which has covered every level of my life, from the clothing I choose to wear each day, to the list of things which have come to matter most to me, even reaching as far as my ‘friends list’ on Facebook.
In setting aside all of the pointless rubbish which has built up over the years, draining my time away like so many grains of sand in an hourglass, I find myself finally free!…or at the very least much freer than I’ve been in years – and the Awen flows in, filling up all of the newly empty spaces.
In the past few months, I’ve thrown myself into my studies, rediscovered my love of sketching, taught myself rudimentary watercolour, read several fascinating books, spruced up my author site, built a new chicken coop from solely upcycled materials, captured some fantastic wildlife footage of pine marten, wolf, wild boar, and roe deer in the forest at the bottom of my fields, sampled a selection of artisanal goats cheeses – which I’ve never tried before – and completed a course in the history of dream analysis and therapy.
While it’s true that this year I won’t be collecting shells and bits of sea-glass on Scerne beach, or visiting Lago di Campotosto, my connection to the earth is only strengthened by this unseen enemy, which has risen to challenge the very core of how humanity exists on this planet. Through the luxury of my excess time and the medium of meditation conducted barefoot in the grass, I can sink my toes into the warm earth and travel wherever I wish to go, whether it’s lingering over a cool glass of sweet brandy sour at the café below Kourion, in Cyprus, or visiting the impressive standing stones at the Ring of Brodgar, in Orkney. Every molecule in my body is made up of the same material which forms all of existence, from the stars shining above us to the dark unseen world which exists far beneath our feet. This journey has made me realise that as my body, mind, and soul are an integral part of everything, no threat or enforced isolation can truly constrain me.