NEW YEAR, SAME PROBLEMS

I am not the only one who, as 2020 ended, welcomed 2021 as the beginning of the return to something approaching normality.

It was a completely irrational belief: we knew that regional lockdowns in November had not worked; we were seeing a new, significantly more virulent variant of Covid-19 manifesting in Kent and spreading extremely rapidly throughout the South-East and beyond; the nationwide tier system evidently wasn’t working and hospitalised cases were rising rapidly. And yet, there was a sense that if we were able to weather all this and just get to the end of 2020, somehow things would be better. I know I was not alone in this; the fireworks, as midnight struck and people celebrated, were stupendous.

I suppose this is in part what our ancestors felt, coming through the longest night of the Winter Solstice and knowing that the light would return. We have lots of traditions that have built on this idea of emergence from the darkness of Winter, and the Christmas season has appropriated many of them to create a joyful and festive season where we push back the darkness with companionship and merriment and (far too many) Christmas parties. What none of our ancestors seem to have been able to do, however, is to maintain that sense of hope and anticipation through the really grim months of January and February. These are always the months that I find people, myself included, struggle most with; dark, and grey and cold and damp and unrelenting (the UK really does grey and damp like nowhere else I’ve ever been!). So this Winter, not only have we missed much of the festivity of Christmas, we have also been deprived of the things that have carried us through the rest of Winter in other, less extraordinary, years. Things such as the face-to-face company of friends and family, the ability to travel away from our homes and explore, or the cultural attractions that keep our minds active and engaged.    

So here we are, at the beginning of 2021, in a new national lockdown, watching the NHS buckle under the strain of serious Covid cases while infection rates soar and the death rate continues to rise. Added to that is the inevitable recriminations and accusations surrounding the chaos that is Brexit and, just in case this all weren’t ‘exciting’ enough, we can watch the livestream drama that is the USA descending into anarchy, at the instigation of its president no less. We knew most, if not all, of that was coming. So why did I and so many others look to 2021 as a new dawn?

For me, the answer to that must be because I needed an achievable goal, in order to feel as though I was progressing at something, anything. Any forward momentum has stalled as my energy is consumed with ‘merely’ standing still. Inertia has taken its place, along with a constant sense of anxiety and uncertainty. I am unable to make plans for fear that the rules will change and my efforts will be disappointed. Spontaneity about much of anything has largely disappeared; from deciding to eat out rather than cook a meal, to a sudden visit to a museum or to meet up with friends. Worse, the lack of normal outside stimulation in ideas and experiences has left me mentally unchallenged and stagnating. After all, how can one realise new insights or challenge oneself without new perspectives? It’s tricky.

So 2021 is not only turning out so far to be an utter shit show, it’s even worse given the (unrealistic) expectation that I placed on it at the end of last year. The only light at the end of this tunnel so far seems to be the promise of mass vaccinations, and it is true that the scientific community has done extraordinary work in getting so many vaccine solutions out so quickly. But there is still no way of knowing how much of the world will need to be vaccinated in order to contain and eventually normalise (as with influenza) the existence of Covid in our lives. And so the turmoil continues with no concrete end in sight.  

What to do then, rather than succumbing to depression, inertia and malaise? Here are my thoughts:

1. Take the time to hibernate.

Now doesn’t have to be the time to make those New Year resolutions, decide on new chapters for your life or forge ahead. Remember that we have spent the last nine months going through an extraordinary period of character-testing, challenging turmoil, where a lot of the normal rules no longer apply, and many of the things we have always taken for granted have been snatched away. Instead, perhaps now is the time to pat yourself on the back and say Well Done! Well done for surviving this so far. Well done for still being able to get out of bed in the morning (let alone take a shower or brush your hair). Well done for reaching out to your support network when you need to, and for being part of someone else’s network when they need you. We are all going through something unprecedented right now, so taking stock, recharging and continuing to be kind to ourselves is perhaps the best thing that we can do right now.  

2. Keep an eye out for anything that sparks your interest, however small or unexpected, and nurture that spark.

Given the lack of the normal things that stimulate and challenge us, these small sparks could be something that you can fan into something more. It could be a book you read or a TV show you watched that got you curious about something. It could be walking past a strange tree during your daily exercise and wondering what it is. It could be anything. And that anything could lead to something new in your life. After all, new often generates its own energy and impetus.

3. Be creative, in small or large ways.

Perhaps that means something that’s also useful, like darning the holes in your sweaters (extra added feel-good points for also doing something that, if you’re anything like me, you’ve been putting off for FAR too long). Maybe that means making a meal from scratch using only the leftovers in your fridge. Maybe it’s as simple as the doodles you make on a piece of paper while you’re on the phone to someone. It’s different for everyone. For me, it’s sewing masks, trying my hand at DIY, and cooking and baking. I find there’s something extremely satisfying about creating something that I can take pleasure in, whether it be something permanent such as a well-painted window frame, or something fleeting like a tasty meal made from leftovers.

We have a lot of dark days, literally and figuratively, still in front of us. Right now, given the (inevitable) let-down of discovering that 2021 isn’t as yet any better than 2020, what’s keeping me going is the little wins. And who knows – if I focus on those, they might engender a bit more momentum to get on and tackle the bigger goals. But right now, hibernation sounds pretty good.