People, Included
As December crept in, in a way that I often find it does, I became more attuned to the depth of 2020. This is a year that - though don’t we say this about every year - has not been like any other. I took a turn around a local park and was transported for a moment back to April this year. The greens shoots of the pandemic and the impact it was going to have were starting to show. Around that time I entered into a sort of halcyon daze that carried me through a season of long walks, zoom catch-ups and endless graphs (that only really went in one direction and told us one thing - “This is serious”). Slowly I unraveled. Sometimes it felt like a much needed unfurling and sometimes it felt manic and itchy. But on balance I saw it as a whole experience - that odd, deeply unfamiliar new landscape that I lived in. And then the moment passed and I was back in December and whatever task I was trying to complete.
This has been a year of communities and the things that hold us together, it has been a year of people. Despite the obvious and compelling truth of enforced isolation and separation I have felt very connected to those I love. There has been something calming about the video check-ins and remote dialoguing. I can count, maybe on two hands, the ‘in person’ social interactions I’ve had this pandemic year. And you know, I actually rather like that. I can feel the weight and joy of them. I can remember the details and what it meant to me. I can reminisce in technicolor in a way that isn’t possible when calendars are full, and cheaper for it. Often in novels, by the very nature of narrative arcs, characters seem to experience very few encounters. We are given their stories as though weeks pass with nothing and lives are populated only by crucial moments - deaths, loves and slys. This is not how we really work - the mundane and repeatable is what dominates our time. This year has been an odd sort of living out of that. It was a year of week’s passing with nothing and then when something did happen (a shared coffee in Shoreditch, a walk in Richmond Park, a pint in Deptford or a week in Surrey) it felt significant and something that, when I return to the memory, is important to me.
I also want to celebrate the kindness I have seen in others this year. I have really felt it. I’ve felt the warmth of letters, of long phone catch-ups and genuine concern. When I’ve been struggling those around me have offered to help and listen, this is a lovely thing. I think we do care for each other and I think we feel this, given our separate-ness, strongly. Those small things, like a simple message to say hello and how are you, have become significant and are imbued with a richness that I am grateful for. We don’t want people to feel alone or unsupported. It is a good thing to know that our assorted communities are alive and being supported. Lets carry that on.
The park’s have been full of people. Sometimes too full, yes. But actually - isn’t that wonderful? Didn’t we learn that in school, that going outdoors and into parks is a good way to be happy? We go to parks & public spaces when we want to celebrate things or have a good old fashioned outdoor drink with friends. My local parks have been a place where my neighbourhood has gone, often with a dog, small child or social distanced visiting parents. I have loped across the various green corners of Deptford & surrounds and it’s been a great way to connect (from afar, sure) to other people. I feel more rooted here than I did in the other places I have lived in across London, this might be because I have become so familiar with the geography (and therefore the people) around me. I got a coffee from a local park café this weekend and honestly, just that small gesture felt great and tangible.
I’ll leave this post with what I really want to say - given that this is the week people will start to be vaccinated. We, we here means society in general, have often acted in ways that help others, often those we do not know and those who might be more vulnerable than ourselves. Let's make 2020 a celebration of that.