A means to an end, on lockdown
The thirst for a vaccine has been quenched, but is it over yet? A superficial understanding (rant):
An odd one, 2020. The word unprecedented has become so common, as has the phrase social distancing, often with the prefix two metres or one metre plus. The zeitgeist of 2020 resembles nothing we imagined. It feels like the world has become tangled in itself, and we are trying to undo the knots and put it all together again, against its will. Everywhere we look, we are reminded that uncertainty and interruption are the only constants in our new normal. The past few months have presented many questions we never had to ask, but have we got any answers?
Lockdown, in its various shapes and forms, has transformed the lives of everyone, from the few where the virus started, to the world, the workers on the frontline, and those who aren’t, from people living in cities, to those who seemingly live in isolation, pandemic or not. Wherever you are, this year has brought something else, from the new, mind-numbing claustrophobia of your room that once represented boundless freedom, to actually reading the news daily, to wearing your pyjama bottoms ‘to work’ on Zoom.
The last few months feel so removed from the reality we were accustomed to, that it feels like a stretch in time between the past past and the future, a liminal phase in our lives. A time, time, nothing else. Waiting. Like the virus has an expiry date, a clock that will wake the world out of the coma it’s been in. Are we passing time or is time just passing us? Sometimes it feels like time doesn’t exist and that we’re not living. Hours slip into days, days become nights, the year has somehow lengthened, or even shrunk at times. It’s been a long time, so long that when you see a photo or video of people meeting or dancing online you ask why they aren’t wearing masks, or distancing. We see things so differently, are we desensitised now; looking back to the onset of the pandemic we now see ourselves as irrational, or are we as terrified as ever, fazed by the rising numbers, too scared to leave our homes, yet now, it’s a different world? What have we become conditioned to?
It feels surreal, to think that this almost dystopia of a reality could actually be coming to an end.
We can only hope. And risk it. We do not know what the long term effects of the vaccine will be. How long it will last and whether or not it will protect against the constantly evolving novel strains is a separate question. Thinking, as freeing as it can be, still can’t solve a lot of problems. We need a vaccine. All we crave is the normality we took for granted back, the certainty that was so free to us that it slipped through the cracks.
I didn’t mean to mislead, or come off as naive, it’s clear we haven’t got the perfect answer. Or even close to that. But we have an answer. The Pfizer vaccine which provides ninety five percent protection against the virus was rolled out in the UK on Friday, with three days seeing nine hundred vaccinated where I was. The logistical limitation of the vaccine is that once thawed, it must be used within three days to remain effective, requiring prior storage at a cool minus seventy Celsius. More crucially, the jab hasn’t proven itself effective against the new strain of the virus pervading the UK, or the doubtless more that will arise across the globe.
I was at a clinic in Oxford on Saturday. I assisted in directing people, given the all familiar one way system, but mainly engaged with the just vaccinated. I appreciate that I’ve been surrounded by my family from the beginning of lockdown in England, and despite lamenting being stuck at school over half term and weekends, or not being able to frequent shops in town, I have lead a relatively unchanged life and have never experienced true isolation. These people are largely the vulnerable, those on the frontline, or with health conditions, and speaking to them, they all remained upbeat, with mindsets that have pulled them through lockdown, and things they love doing, be it reading, or cooking, or just spending time with their loved ones. The sentiment has been consistent and bittersweet, it is a a time when they and I would normally be with our families, yet a time to not be complacent. Sacrifice is the cost of health. People have grieved the loss of their dearest, but they still keep their heads up and go on. Their strength has reminded me of how crucial it is to check in on yourself and others, and hold onto what you have.
I don’t think lockdown is bad. Controversial; in the current deteriorating state of mental health in people, the dire economy, the climbing daily numbers that we’ve become so desensitised to. The distinction between the virus and lockdown has to be made. Lockdown is an effect and has succeeded in the curb of spread. The virus is not what most of us have experienced first hand, only its impacts. I’m not someone that passes divisive judgement willingly. I don’t believe in classing things as ‘good’ and ‘bad’. Everything has both. I would never claim lockdown to be all good. We didn’t have a choice in the virus, it was given to us, like it or not, and lives will continue to be lost, as they have been, but as a society we can use this as a strengthener. Instead of patching up the cracks clumsily, and quickly getting over it, end it, as we are all told to do, be it a person, a job, or just exhaustion, we can meditate on what’s been shown to us.For me, lockdown has been a chance for reflection. A time to break from constantly being out and meeting new people, new places, a time I have been left to appreciate the present and trap myself in it, instead of waiting on being ‘let out’ of quarantine, or longing to be back where I was two summers ago. A time to appreciate and reevaluate the life I have, instead of what is lacking. A time to try new things. A decluttering, an escape from the noise of the outside.
More than anything, it’s hit me, at last, that we don’t have time, it’s never promised, and that we are just travelling through it, like a tunnel, and that is important. I have learnt, but I’m romanticising it, the expectation of teachers to check your email and everyone to be online was greater than ever, and boredom came and went, and came again, we realised how tiresome we, and our families, are to be around, and not even at the worst of times. Holidays were unthinkable, wanderlust grew when I couldn’t go anywhere except the park. Shopping and going to places became a distant memory. I’m not taking those away though. Yes, when I can’t do something or go somewhere I might quickly dip into that memory of being constrained to our homes, but I’m not going to focus on it, even if it’s comforting. I concede it can feel contrived, looking at the flipside when the news is so negative, and numbers are stacking up, even at the better of times, yet embracing these frustrations will get us nowhere.
It’s been a whirlwind, we have had Black Lives Matter, a new president, we have all become more ‘woke’, we have but also because we post petitions on our social media pages and all make an impact by sharing a post that claims to donate money for each share, odds are they don’t, but it spreads awareness, which is of some value, however superficial. Our society will forever be flawed, but that doesn’t mean it can’t change, and I’m not denying the positive change we have enacted. The world is changing itself, virus or not. Yet there is always room for more if we reach for it, and we’re not. There is much we need to take from the experience of being truly ‘locked up’.
This could be a resetting we need but first, we need to wake up.
20/12
Edited by Anastasiya Gromyko
