The Gift of Time

Wollaton Park must be beautiful right now - trees bursting in a kaleidoscope of greens, wildflowers carpeting the track that goes around the lake, willowy branches casting dancing shadows on the walking trails and the beautiful mansion standing regal on the hill top, framing the blue summer sky.

Wouldn't it be nice to go for a picnic, pack some sandwiches and crisps, pick up coffee afterwards from the cafe, lay out a blanket on the grassy slope along with scores of other people, with their dogs and babies and footballs and talking parrots (it happened once!). 

But of course, the 'New Normal' has rendered the above scene pretty impossible (for now).

On the other hand, I have seen my tiny backyard become more enchanting this summer than ever before. The neighbour's tree leans over the fence, it's branches casting a perfect shade on our side. It has leaves of an indescribable colour, each a rainbow in itself with shades of green and rust and maroon and brown and yellow, depending on how the sunlight falls on them.

There are suddenly so many birds, and a few visiting cats who walk the alley and peer in through the wooden gate to see what's going on. We have a bad ass robin that is tiny and adorable and really doesn't get bothered if we're outside, continuing about its business, fluttering here and there, gathering food and twigs. And then there is a very small mouse that scampers out from beneath the shed and goes back and forth a few times on quiet afternoons.

The phrase 'New Normal' makes me anxious - is this how life will be? Queues snaking outside stores, people wearing masks, a life without hugs and handshakes and kisses, where we have to think twice about picking up a wallet that the man walking in front of us just dropped because is it okay to hand it back to him...?

Maybe. For a short while (in the long run, the big picture, the full movie, this will be but a short while, a medium sized crater, a twist in the plot).

But there is more to the 'New Normal' than social distancing. I remember never having enough time (even without a baby!), always planning trips to the theatre, cinema, parks, weekend holidays to quaint English towns, because you have one life and you *must* make the most of it.

It was all about consumption. Dining out, trying out pink lattes, buying frames and clothes and going to the cinema. The pressure of doing and consuming, a race against time and a silent global competition to have the best most fulfilling life, spurred on by social media. Watch the latest film, plan the best party, go on holiday and get a photograph taken from the back in an infinity pool.

And then with a sudden giant sweep, all our plans were brushed away.

Why not, suggested a god tired of his creations gone rogue, you chill out instead. All of you together so there is no FOMO (fear of missing out!!!).

Stay home. Bake some bread, finish ten 1,000 piece puzzles, or get to know your newborn slowly, learn patience as you spend more time than ever with your loved ones and semi loved ones.

I get the lockdown blues like anyone else, but I also realise that there are some silver linings to these dark clouds.

It's only because of the lockdown that we have not one but two grandmas visiting from Pakistan, making my little baby a very lucky little critter. And while flight schedules remain up in the air (!!!), they're here helping make my life brighter, my heart lighter and my house cleaner.

It is because of the lockdown that baba gets to see his little one as much. Because of the lockdown that life is simpler. No pressure to throw the best party, go on holiday, visit the theatre and be cultured.

There is so much to learn within the walls of our homes - things about each other, about ourselves, acquiring new skills, rekindling old or faded friendships, practicing patience and love. Instead of epic trips abroad, we're learning to enjoy the little things in life, a sunny day in the backyard, planting flowers, making scrapbooks.

It is a much simpler life. And as we hopefully ease out of lockdown and back towards the Old Normal, maybe we'll hang on to this gift of time, choosing to continue a simpler life with less societal pressures to consume more. Dine out less, buy less, spend better quality time with fewer friends, enjoy the fresh air, finish that puzzle, and realise that there might be more to existence than always being on the go.