Well, where to start?
I have finally put a blank page in front of me on my computer, all this empty space to fill. And yet I still don’t know where to start, or what to write about. This unprecedented time has left me in odd state of emotions, ruining my self-important plans whilst millions struggle with larger problems, leaving me feeling simultaneously frustrated and guilty; an odd emotional cocktail resulting in a grumpy mess of me. My emotional control has left, my self control has gone walkabouts, and the shell of me is left to pick up the pieces and carry this body about the indoor space I’ve been allotted. Even this writing is melodramatic! Still, though, I must allow myself to feel this way; it is a natural feeling and it is the one that I am having. It is nobody’s fault that all this is happening, it is just the way of things: the course of nature. And I, nor anyone else, can change that.
One thing this situation does afford me though, is time. And, as my old school motto has stuck in my head: “whilst we have time, let us do good”. Thus far, this time has not been spent well. Instead I find myself mulling in my own self-pity or, in a word, sulking. I have been ill, admittedly, with reoccurring headaches and a horrible effort to wake up past my sore throat each morning. Yet still, I have the power – the power in my head, my thoughts, my actions – to be and become a better person through this challenge. Yes, I have been ill, but no, I don’t need to wallow in self-pity, no, I don’t get to use this quarantining as a time to mope about and “chill-out”, and, certainly, no, I don’t get to grump at my parents for all the efforts they do for me. This writing is a way to get through this, to reach my sense of action, and to work on myself and the things I can control.
Having said that, it’s all up in the air. I don’t know what to talk about, write about, think about even. When time is slowed, as it has been for all of us, it leaves us with the time to think, to reflect on who we are, where we are, what we’ve done, what we want to do, and I think most frustratingly of all, where we want to go. There is no “going” now. There’s going to the toilet, going downstairs, going to the kitchen, but that isn’t going. With all this time, potential adventures surface, plans coalesce in our minds. But the road cannot be walked. It must wait. The adventures cannot be begun, they must remain within our minds and within our hearts, until nature allows it. Until the world has had its rest from our survivalistic minds, had its breather, and decides to let us into our playground once again. And once we’re back – allowed back – we can be reconnected with what we, we who pander for the escape of the outdoors, love.