Lessons Learned in Lockdown

This morning marks the beginning of week 7 of total lockdown here in Italy. We venture out for a stroll on our new land –  ‘to-go’ coffee mugs in hand, a light sweater draped across my shoulders to block the cool spring air and wellingtons to guard against any unwelcome tall-grass dwellers.

I stop in the middle of our olive grove and take a big breath – inhaling the sweet green air deep into my lungs. I exhale slowing to the count of eight. This is a breathing technique I’ve learned on social media recently – one of the many bits of advice circulating around to keep the growing anxiety at bay.

But it’s still there.

Embedded in every Covid-19 headline, lurking on every empty street corner, hiding in the monotonous ‘sameness’ of every day of this lockdown.  Anxiety.

And it’s growing.

Every time I remember I can’t venture past our driveway without a signed document telling authorities I have a valid reason to do so or I hear my baby grandson giggle on video chat and I know I can’t jump on a plane and visit him any time soon, I feel a kind of panic start to seize my chest. And then I do the breathing exercises and I feel better.

I remind myself that while my personal freedom has been taken away there are those who have lost so much more in this unprecedented global crisis: loved ones; jobs; savings, homes, relationships.

This virus is robbing us all.

I open my eyes and continue our morning walk with a renewed sense of calm. And that’s when I see it – a flash of red on the ridge of the olive grove. I venture over and see a line of poppies, swaying slightly in the gentle breeze.

I forgot it is the month for poppies here in Umbria – time having become somewhat irrelevant in these days of lockdown. I heard somewhere that you can’t pick poppies in Italy. Not that I want to. They are fragile beauties in our lush field of green. They are survivors in a rough and hardy landscape. I recall reading poppies are symbols of peace and hope for the future. And I realize that’s just what we all need, a reminder that there are brighter days ahead.

I continue our walk and reflect on all the lessons I’ve learned during these weeks of confinement – the things that have surprised me, moved me, and changed me during this time in history none of us will ever forget.

The simple life

Those of you following my blog know we moved to our new house the first day of the lockdown, our ‘new’, old house that needs a kitchen and lots of updating. This was supposed to happen in mid March but the laws of lockdown shut down the renovation before it started.

So I adapted. We had a cheap, plastic laundry tub installed for a sink and bought a small fridge for our makeshift kitchen.

Every day I put much thought and effort into making something delicious with our two forms of cooking – the toaster oven or hot pot. Dishes like risotto, lasagna and chicken cordon blue. I bake cookies and apple crumble in the toaster oven. I serve dinner on one of the three plates we have in a credenza I’m using for the dual purposes of a cupboard and pantry. I’m making do.

Each evening, Peter lights the fire and we sit on our one, small sofa and he tells me how amazed he is by what I’m managing to do with our simplified life. Until last week when a friend jumped in and offered her washing machine, I’ve washed our clothes by hand – including the bedding – and hung them outside to dry.

We have the same clothes that fit into one suitcase six weeks ago.  They sit stacked on chairs and in the one cabinet we have here. Everything else that made our lives so comfortable, easy – and I realize now somewhat luxurious – is packed away. Waiting for a renovation that hasn’t happened.

But here’s the strange thing. As time goes on and weeks go by, I have a growing affection for my bare bones kitchen, an appreciation for the crisp snap of the sheets when I hang them on the line.

I’m astonished to realize I am happy.

Despite the anxiety, the uncertainty, the chaos around us. Maybe it really is true: less is more.

Together forever and a day

Let’s face it, being together 24/7 is hard. I know there are different challenges for those of you who are locked down alone but for couples and families, finding a way to be together all the time, without the distraction of work or friends can be very stressful.  I suspect there will be a lot of babies born and a lot of divorces filed when this is over.

In France, incidences of domestic abuse have skyrocketed. Stressed out Moms all over the globe are taking to social media to share tips on how to cope with restless, young children.

It makes sense. We aren’t meant to rely solely on each other as our only means of support and stimulation. But here we are. And with a few exceptions that I know of, we are all finding a way to make it work.

I decided to use this time as a kind of a personal and relationship boot camp – to take a good look at my marriage and myself and see what I can do to make both relationships better. After all, we have all this time on our hands, without social or work obligations. What better time to make changes?

For me, it’s about letting go of the need to have everything perfect, to have everything in it’s place – including myself. My Mom taught me to always put myself together, even if I was staying home and knew I would never see another living soul that day. And I have always followed her advice.

So I thought, ‘what if I just say to hell with it?’ Don’t style my hair the same way, don’t put on that lipstick (it gets smudged with the face mask anyway) and don’t wear perfume. Just get up, wash up and ‘be’ for the day. This may not sound radical to all you women who are ‘au naturel’ but for me, this has been a bold move.

What if I stopped finding fault in things and people and just accepted that we are all different and instead tried to actually embrace the differences? I’ve been practicing this one on Peter and I know he is sensing the shift.

What if all the focus we have put on things ‘out there’ was turned instead inward? If we took this time of solitude and silence and instead of seeing it as scary, we saw it as sacred.

The world will start to spin again soon enough. We will have to jump back on the merry-go-round and get on and off at all the stops that make up our full and active lives. But for now we have this, for at least a few more weeks.

What will you do with this gift of time?  

“I survived, carried on, glad to be

like a weed, a wild red poppy,

rooted in life”

Marilyn Buck, poem ‘Wild Poppies’

A presto

Anna