4:06 PM on Day One of Lockdown #2 in the city of Melbourne in the country of Australia. I experienced a visceral shock at the sudden plunge from “nearly unlocked to normality” (well, I’d been sitting in a cafe for two hours every morning, once again writing amongst humanity) to home lockdown (only four reasons to leave the house, folks). The shock was more pronounced because a much-delayed grandparent visit to Darwin has had to be shelved once more. But there’s no point in whining when so much of the world lives amongst Covid-19 risks a magnitude higher than mine.
So . . . six weeks, forty-two days. Unlike the first lockdown period, which yielded progress but nothing outstanding, this time I am pent up to hit every day running and to see the quasi-incarceration as an opportunity, both for writing and life in general. We are but our actions allied to our dreams, and this time I intend to make me proud of myself.
There isn’t such a word but that’s what I’m doing. Here in Melbourne the lockdown has begun to be eased. Five people to your home … that doesn’t sound like much but it let us go see our local grandchildren yesterday for the first time in two months. Emotionally, that feels so much like a release, that I’m ceasing the daily “Lockdown” posts on this blog site. Those 46 Lockdown posts were nothing profound, just a means of prodding me to be attentive to the strangeness of the Covid-19 times. At the same time, I’m ceasing the daily “Defiance” posts on my other blog (an example here); those 43 posts were similarly aimed at keeping the flame of climate action burning. From today onwards, lockdown no longer imprisons me.
Tree bark cares not a whit for this pandemic
We’re not out of lockdown yet but in my mind and heart, I’m now calling myself free. Free to look forward. Free to embrace a fervent future. Free to dream big.
After a month-plus of hiding and indulging, I now gaze outward. I wake up early. I strive.
Within the swirling chaos of everyday life, my Big Decade skeleton overlaying 2020 will be two big years, the Writing Big Year launched yesterday, and the continuing, trivial-but-uplifting Lexicon Big Year.
How I wish the rest of 2020 spanned twelve months, not merely eight!
My parents were boat people. They chose Australia over U.S.A. Right now, I applaud them.
Empty airports until when? A good or a bad?
Lockdown is a state of mind. From today I choose freedom.
In April we transformed ever more digital
An image I’ve retained from childhood reading: the plague!
There will be an accounting