Level 2 has arrived. It felt like it would never come, but here we are.
As of 11.59pm on Wednesday 13th May, we’ve entered into another new way of life. It’s not normal life, and certainly not close to it either. We’re still very much living cautiously, and I hope the rest of the country remains vigilant so we don’t have to go back to Level 3 or 4.
When we left Level 2 on the way up, I had all these dreams of what I thought I was going to do, or want to do, as soon as lockdown was over. I wasn’t that worried and hadn’t processed the reality of the pandemic. I hate to admit this, but I got my nails done only hours before hitting lockdown with little concern about who I was coming into contact with. I naively went to several supermarkets to find the chocolate I wanted without thinking about all the possible places I could have picked up the virus or spread it around. I’m surprised at how cautious and reserved I feel now.
Coming into Level 2 on this side, I felt guilty for being on the road the first time we went for a drive. I decided to wait a couple of weeks to get my nails done, “just in case,” and I’m in no hurry to book other non-essential appointments. I find I’m still wanting to limit my interaction with people I haven’t seen since before lockdown, because it’s just that many less people I’ll have been in contact with if this goes belly up in a week or two. I was happy to book a dinner out, but only once I found out how the establishment was being Covid safe. I’m excited to get back to the gym, but only now that I’ve been reassured of the lengths they are going to in order to protect us while we’re there. And most surprising of all, I’ve found I’ve had to be intentional about making social plans because I know it’s good for me.
They say it takes 21 days to form a habit. We were in complete isolation for 33 days, followed by another 14 of near isolation. We’ve not been socializing for 47 days. We have formed a habit of disconnection and isolation.
Even once we moved to Level 3 and were permitted to expand our bubble by one household, we arranged our expansion, but never did anything about it. Maybe it was partly because it somehow still felt wrong, or maybe because it would have taken effort that we’re no longer used to putting forth.
Sometimes, I feel too lazy to make plans. It’s easier to just stay home. I don’t have to get ready, or even get up! I’m used to being at home now. I can stick to my own routine. I know myself though, and I’m a social person who is definitely in need of some real face to face interaction. I need to push myself past the laziness and start getting back to the parts of real life we’re permitted to be doing. I need to interact with people in a social setting. I was so socially busy before; I only stayed home if I had to. Now, it’s been surreal to notice that new struggle to motivate myself.
An object in motion wants to stay in motion, right? And one that’s stopped, well that takes some extra force to get it going again.
I’ve also learned that I’ve formed some negative associations with socializing. I feel like I’m doing something wrong if I hug someone, or go to a friend’s house. I have to remind myself that this is now okay; it’s actually healthy. There is so much more to health than just the physical realm, and it’s time to start caring about the mental, emotional and relational parts of my health.
I’m observing a whole range of responses to the newest change in levels. There are those people that have always acted like it was a level more casual than it was, and there are those acting like we’re still in lockdown now. I suppose people need to take things at their own pace, within the government recommendations, and do what they’re comfortable with. I do wonder though, if we’ll ever get back to how life was before. I think not.
Even if a vaccine is created in the next year or so, by then, people will be so used to social distancing and limiting their interactions that they may never go fully back to pre-Covid life. On the radio they were speaking about a process we’ve all adopted called “nesting.” We’ve set ourselves up in our homes and we’re good to go. We can work from home and shop online and have things delivered, so why do we need to go out anymore?
Covid has affected every single one of us. The way we interact is likely forever changed. I was reminded recently that I’m in a country that’s a lot better off than many others. We feel hopeful within New Zealand because we are feeling the benefits of going hard and fast. The rest of the world isn’t where we are. We can’t drop our guards yet. During a business update by my company’s CEO, he discussed how the way we do business has changed, likely forever. The way our countries govern and how they relate to each other has changed, which will affect travel, trade, and the world economy. People are spending differently because they’ve lost jobs, which is changing the products they want, and the markets to produce those products. Covid has a domino effect that reaches into every arena of our lives.
What parts of Covid are going to stay with us for the foreseeable future?
Nobody has the answers. Sometimes it feels like we’re all on a train that’s out of control and we can’t get off. Or I have flashbacks to an amusement park ride that I’m trapped on and it’s scary and uncomfortable but it’s going and I just have to wait till it’s over, pray it doesn’t fall apart and hope I don’t puke or pass out. We’re in this for the long haul, whether we like it or not.
There’s a lot to think about right now. Most of it’s not certain. Every now and again I have these “what if” moments, where my stomach drops and I get that feeling like my heart’s in my throat. When I catch myself thinking those words over and over, “what if,” I’m reminded that I’m worrying. This is not productive to me in any way. What will be will be, regardless of my worry. In those moments, I need to remind myself of what keeps me calm. In those moments is where my faith becomes real.
We’re in this together, and I believe there’s a plan. And it’s going to be okay. I might be stuck on that scary ride, and I don’t know when it’s going to end, but I’m not alone on the ride. Or even though I can’t see ahead to where the train track goes, or what’s behind the next corner, I trust that we’re going to be alright.
It’s okay to be scared. It’s okay to have questions. It’s okay to acknowledge whatever feelings we’re having. We’re human and our humanness is being put to the test. It’s okay to take this one day at a time. It’s okay to reach out!
So we’ll just keep on keeping on and see how this all unfolds. I hope you’re healthy and staying safe out there, readers.
Cherished Life by Chelsea 