CHAMPAGNE AND CHIPS IN SEPTEMBER
As I come to the close of any number of texts/DMs/emails/WhatsApp exchanges, I frequently find myself signing off with “Let's make a date for when....”. It feels like a hopeful, positive and entirely necessary thing to make future plans, even if they can’t be set in stone by a precise entry in a diary right now. They call that hope don’t they?
My friend Lou, whose words help to keep my appetite for soothing wisdom comfortably sated, responded to my request for such a future date with “Champagne and chips in September? Now there’s a blog post title if ever I heard one!”
You were right Lou.
A few friends who I can only communicate with on this temporary remote basis are expressing something similar to how I feel of late too. We speak of the on-again, off-again, tentative enjoyment of this enforced time of slow - of how being able to pause, reflect and adjust the pace on a daily basis feels like a gift. We then quickly caveat this with the inevitable guilt that follows. Of course it would feel wrong to say that you’re finding solace and joy in amongst something that leaves so much sorrow and hardship in its wake.
But we are all human and as I’m continually told of late, us humans as a collective are remarkably resilient and more skilled than we know in the art of adaptation. This is how we continue, overcome and eventually begin to thrive again. So I’m learning to permit those small moments of calm and joy under the pretence that they’re a suitably weighty counterbalance to the somewhat darker emotions that circle back. Yin and Yang as they say.
I seem to have resorted to experimenting with these new slower routines on a weekly basis. A tiny tweak here, a minor modification there and then I sit back and test the water. How is my lockdown life measuring up… and really, to what? Don’t worry. I have not and will not fall for the whole Instagram picture perfect concept of what we fancy it might be. Anna Mathur, a consistently sage source of rationality said here “Be wary of comparison. A picture tells a thousand words but some of them are lies.”
As far as Instagram or any other social media platform goes, I’ve learnt that an essential head-above-water technique is to practice social distancing on social media too. Ironically, I’m sure I read those words of sense on someone’s Instagram feed but I can’t think for the life of me who. How that distancing plays out might look different for everyone but for me it’s no time on Twitter or Facebook whatsoever. And only short, once or twice daily check in’s on Instagram. On a more carefully curated feed than ever and with no mindless scrolling that might land me somewhere I suddenly realise I don’t want to be.
But back to the concept of measuring up. My own yardstick seems to have been self-set by a persistent inner voice that comes from deep within. It tells me to make the most of this time, this day, this week, this month, this life. It tells me I have a choice in regard to the state of mind I apply to living out this time. Some days I agree wholeheartedly with the voice and yet others, I strongly beg to differ. But with each day that passes, I’m aiming for a more consistent leaning toward the former.
The very same voice reminds me of the need to highlight and give airtime to the overwhelming sense of gratitude that I feel everyday. My gratitude list is L O N G and I’m sure, possibly reads similar to yours. It starts with every single person out there working to save lives and keep the country ticking over and ends with the patience exuded by my husband as I run through my almost nightly, ever changing list of What If’s. Maybe your gratitude list differs from mine on that last point, unless of course he’s willingly gone along with the idea for me to loan out his never ending logic and oddly comforting, analytical thought processes to those in need.
I hope that you have a person or persons, be they under the same roof or remotely, who you can bounce your fears off, ruminate on the possibles with and leave the conversation feeling more comforted than when you began.
Someone who encourages the seeds of hope every time they appear and who tells you you’re right to nurture those moments of calm and joy as fiercely as possible.
Someone who agrees that yes, champagne and chips in September might just be the perfect metaphor for the better times that lay ahead.
