I’m writing this a couple of hours before another national lockdown is expected to be announced by Boris (now announced). It will be England’s third lockdown since the menace that is COVID-19 came into our lives almost exactly a year ago, drastically altering the way we live and taking many loved ones before their time. This, combined with the fact that it is the first Monday back at work for many people, means that today is not a happy day for many – and not a good start to 2021. The first month of the year is usually a grim one anyway; the weather, end of festivities, and back to school feels is enough to make any stomach churn with anxiety. Throw a global pandemic-that-is-showing-no-sign-of-abating into the mix and it is positively bleak. It doesn’t help that we have an indecisive, incompetent government at the helm which has made so many U-turns and poor choices in the past ten months that it is no wonder people are tired, frustrated, confused and disillusioned. I – along with many others who live here – wish Jacinda Ardern was our prime minister. Surely, we can just share her with NZ?

It is hard to stay optimistic about the future when we are surrounded by so much loss; lives, jobs, plans, time. It feels as though we are watching grains of sand slip through our fingers and there is nothing we can do except watch and wait. Uncertainty stretches out for as far as the eye can see. Inequality has been magnified. Even our identities are being warped by this new normal. I can’t be the only one who is questioning my own sense of self and purpose amidst this pandemic.

I am lucky. I have not lost any loved ones. One of my best friends lost three family members within the space of two months. He couldn’t say goodbye to his beloved grandma, he couldn’t hold her hand, he couldn’t give her one last kiss. He couldn’t even attend her funeral. I can’t begin to imagine how painful that must be to experience.

Another friend had been saving up for the trip of a lifetime. A month before she was due to step of the plane in Costa Rica, the lockdown started. Her dreams shattered.

One good thing to come out of COVID-19 is that it has taught us not to take anything for granted. It has shown us all how easily the people – and things – we love can be snatched from us without a moment’s notice. It has certainly shown me how important certain relationships are, how important human connection is. How we need that to keep ourselves afloat when we feel at sea. It has also shown us how resilient we are; I have been astounded by stories of people – both those I know and those who are complete strangers – who have battled on despite everything falling apart.

A COVID-free summer feels a long way away (if impossible). The phrase ‘it’ll get worse before it gets better’ is being said a lot at the moment. Looking ahead, as we often do in January, now triggers a tidal wave of dread. How long until we can hug our friends/family? How long until the two-metre rule is a thing of the past? How long until that much yearned for thing, normality, returns?

I don’t have any answers to these questions – no-one does. This is what is most disconcerting. So what can we do? We can destroy ourselves with anger and fear. Or we can start finding joy in the small things, live in the present instead of worrying about the future, we can learn to appreciate what we have, look after ourselves, we can hold on to the hope for better times to come. Easier said than done, I know (and this is coming from an incredibly impatient person). But those better times will come; we just have to wait.

Photo taken on the evening of the last day of 2020.