Lockdown Reflections

Lockdown Reflections Tishara Rajagopal How the time passes, and how you should pass the time Before lockdown measures were introduced in London, but just when panic seemed to have spread overnight, my friends were having an upsetting conversation in our group chat. A birthday celebration had moved from dinner at a comedy club to potluck in a flat. We sat debating whether we should meet at all, hoping for the best, but knowing it would be a while before we saw each other again: “i am not sure whether going out and gathering with people is the wisest thing to do at the moment. i really dont know.” “breaks my heart to think that that means i won’t see u guys” “i think we cannot give ourselves a choice” “i want to be able to use this opportunity before it’s gone :(“

We decided not to go, to serve everyone’s best interests, but a sweet Zoom call dinner party ended in tears and disbelief. The days that followed were a series of confused answers to difficult questions about where in the world would be safest. Over time, in the face of uncertainty, I found comfort in new routines of online classes and daily check-ins with friends and family. I was embarrassed to say I was moderately thriving despite having my present and immediate future taken away. But I was! I invested in a guitar, practiced yoga, participated in weekly game nights, and worked productively during the day. A few more birthdays down the line, and it came time to celebrate mine. I baked a carrot cake, hosted an elaborate pub quiz, and stepped onto my rooftop to see the sun finally set on a long, fulfilling spring day. I probably wouldn’t have invited my friends from different time zones to celebrate with me if all of this hadn’t happened. It was special to have my childhood friends on call with the ones I met a few months ago: “looooved the quiz i learnt so much!!!” “was vying for first place :(“ “haha it was a hard quiz though like damn some questions were specific but i had a lot of fun”

I discovered, annoyingly, a new phase of this experience. I was told to stick to a routine and find something to look forward to each day. I did just that and flourished. I managed to produce moments of joy and pride out of something that seemed bleak and miserable. But that’s turned into something I dread. It’s frustrating to find that there’s a narrow separation between comfort and banality. It’s ironic that last month what I dreaded was not knowing what the next day would look like, and anticipated a rapid succession of changes that a press briefing would bring about. Today, I wake up to the stale fact of knowing exactly what I must do until I get back into bed, and reject the habits I once cherished. This probably isn’t the best self-help advice you’ve heard of late, and you probably didn’t ask to listen to another pandemic-related complaint. I am looking forward to something though. It’s a sneaky, warm feeling that creeps up on you in the evening once you realise you had a day that felt normal. Or if you’re lucky, one that felt pretty great. The moment of appreciating that you, and we as human beings, can persevere, get creative, and ameliorate our situations,

is something that I am really looking forward to.

Reflecting and reimagining consumption I often take a moment to reflect on the fact that we are living through monumental history. The coronavirus pandemic has impacted billions of lives and will undoubtedly shape the decades to come. What mildly awkward gesture for greeting acquaintances will replace the handshake? Does the concept of personal space finally make its way to the London Underground? Is banana bread the unanimous superior bread? Without minimizing the devastating losses people are facing, there is an anticipation for seeing this crisis through, and the changes that will come with it.

This is a moment of learning and evaluation for individuals, organizations, and governments. We cannot, and should not, return to ‘business as usual’. A group of academics from the Netherlands have proposed reforms they deem necessary to resuscitate national economies. These policies highlight a ‘de-growth’ approach which will serve to make businesses more sustainable. Sociologists and environmental scientists often emphasize the role of consumers in the system of supply and demand to limit harmful, wasteful, and luxurious consumption. The increasing circulation of goods and people, marked by travel-and shopping-oriented lifestyles, brings about increasing ecological and inequality issues — lifestyles that are now unthinkable during a global lockdown.

Despite baking a fortnightly cake, I have experienced my life stripped down to the bare minimum. I barely go outside, barely shop, and barely exercise — the last one a troubling combination with the baked goods. Nonetheless, this is an incredible exercise for those of us who have the privilege of luxury and excess to indulge in. I would have loved a summer of travelling across Europe, and taken that over the daily commute from my bed to my desk. However, it’s given me the space to recognize and be thankful for my comforts, and also to think about what I value going forward.

Re-evaluating our consumption as individuals and societies is a solid foundation for rebuilding sustainable lifestyles. By focusing on redistribution policies, conserving and consuming local products, and prioritising universal health, social, and environmental systems, the period of restoration after the pandemic can be the start of an incredible revolution.