This was published on Medium back in 2020, and I recently rediscovered it. I’ll be sharing this piece along with some other pieces from that time because they just tickle my fancy.

Learning something new isn’t easy and doesn’t happen overnight either.

There’s no magic cure, no short cuts to learning a new behaviour or new skill. You just have to practice. Show up each and every day. And do your best.

There are certain steps to follow if you want to adopt a new habit or develop a new skill. Being a creative being, I’m open to being inspired by others. The following steps have been adapted from an Instagram post by Lisa Congdon in relation to building a skill, particularly in wanting to become an artist.

I think these steps apply just as much to learning to stay indoors during the Coronavirus lockdown as to developing any new skills and habits. Here I explore how I’ve been learning to stay inside.

1. Begin — One. Two. Three. Four. Five. The inflow and out flow of the breath. I’ll admit, I’ve been complacent about the Coronavirus. I thought it was far way from home. I felt sorry for the thousands of deaths I was witnessing in China but I felt secure in the U.K. I was ignorant and selfish. And I was wrong. Just as the buds begin to appear on the linden trees along my street, reports start to come in about individuals being infected in England. The virus is spreading. I begin to understand it spreads through person to person contact. Around about 12th March, I make the decision to cancel events which involve people gathering. I’ve been working on a number of projects which offer opportunities to black, Asian and ethnic minorities in my region to develop a relationship with nature. Disappointingly, I put a stop to these activities. I walk into the sea to heal.
2. Practice — As an individual, I start to self-isolate. I stop unnecessary trips out and keep my distance from friends and family, and people, in general. It’s difficult as it’s like swimming against the tide. No one else seems to be worried about closeness. I do the responsible thing. I look after myself by taking my medicine. I go back into the sea and breathe.
3. Keep showing up — With my world shrinking, I contact our funders, our partners and our groups in relation to our Black Nature projects and inform them we are canceling and/or postponing events and activities scheduled for Spring and Summer because of the Coronavirus. It kills me to pick apart projects which have been six to seven years in the making but I know it’s the right thing to do to keep everyone safe. I lean into my writing practice using this time at home to follow a strict regime of morning pages, journal prompts, poetry exercises, visual journalling and reading. I’m in control of the situation.
4. Practice some more– Crowds of daffodils bob along the roadside as I make the twice daily trips to drop off and pick up from school. I‘m worried about our children. Our 9 year old daughter at school. Our 21 year old son away from home teacher training. It doesn’t sit well with me that I‘m self-isolating but sending my babies out into the world daily. I worry they’re at risk. I go food shopping. Shelves begin to empty and I feel people’s panic. This escalates my panic. I stop going into the sea.
5. Stretching self — Tuesday 17 March, we pick our daughter up from school, and don’t send her back the next day. We feel the U.K. government doesn’t care about us. We feel they’re not doing enough to protect us and stop the spread of the virus. We make our own decision to lockdown as a family. We start out as if it’s a holiday. A chance to rest and relax and catch up on TV shows and films. We have no routine. We listen to the gulls outside our windows squawking their freedom.
6. Practice — I shop alone for what we need. And yes this includes extra toilet rolls and pasta. I’m privileged enough to be able to buy plenty of whatever we want. People still don’t keep their distance. Their anxiety rubs off on me. I take my annoyance and frustration back into the home. No amount of showering and clothes washing can rid the stench of fear. I meet people who matter to me through a screen. I don’t go into the sea.
7. Practice – 23rd March the British government puts the whole country on a three week lockdown. The Prime Minister announces the police will now have the power to fine people if they leave their homes for any reason other than the following: shopping for basic necessities, one form of exercise a day, medical need or to provide care for a vulnerable person and traveling to work but only for key workers.
8. Note your improvements – I haven’t been in the sea for two weeks. I‘m not coping well under quarantine. I‘m not using the time away from the outside world in any productive way. I‘m beating myself up for not doing more. For not finishing the book, for not cleaning the house. For not moving forward but instead treading water. As cherry blossom blooms pink and white and raspberry, are tossed about in the wind, I’m wrapped in grief. Grieving for the life I’d built from rock bottom, in the last 5 years, gone in an instant. I’m grieving for the projects I’d worked hard and persevered with to create with others for others gone in a click of a button. I’m grieving for not being able to go to my favourite coffee shop and order an extra hot, vanilla oat latte and savour the taste while writing my morning pages. And yes I know how thoughtless and trivial that sounds. I‘m missing the sea.
9. Practice — My days are different now. Time seems to move differently, faster and slower at the same time. Days morph into each other and weekends just don’t feel the same when you find yourself not going out into the world to work during the week, and coming home late craving some downtime. Now every day feels like down time. It’s easy to get lost in the nothingness if I don’t have something to do. My moods are up and down as I try to enforce some structure. And then try to just go with the flow. It’s difficult to keep things together for myself and my family. Especially when I’m denying myself my medicine, the sea. Because of fear. Fear of the patrolling police questioning me. The police not just fining me but imprisoning me. I’m a vulnerable Black body outside when I’m not supposed to be outside. Try to feel my fear. Fear of other people not keeping their distance. Fear of people in general. I can only control my actions and some people are still acting in irresponsible ways through ignorance or entitlement. I tell myself: I’m not the waves of life. I try to drop below the waves and find the calm and peace underneath.
10. Practice — Stay home. Protect the NHS. Save lives. A constant reminder whenever I go outside. Every Thursday at 8 pm, we go outside and clap to show our appreciation for all the hard work the key workers within the NHS are doing. Are enduring. I go out once a week to do a big shop wearing a face mask and gloves. I hope my eyes tell the story that I’m smiling at the shop workers. I make a point of telling them my appreciation. I wish them safety and wellness. I make sure our daughter gets out once a day for some fresh air otherwise she’d just stay glued to her screens. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. The inflow and outflow of the breath.
11. Repeat — One. Two. Three. Four. Five. The inflow and outflow of the breath. I practice self support. I support myself during these unprecedented times by being kind to myself. I try to have an intention regarding how I start my day. How I want to feel today. Most days, I want to be present. Most days are a present. I hold gratitude for the life I’m living, at the moment. Life is moment to moment. One moment, I’m on my mat feeling the morning chill caress my neck and shoulders. The next movement, I feel my body, it’s heaviness pulled towards the earth. I’m part of Earth. I’m trying to stay more in the now. And not worry about the future or mourn too much about the past. I’m human so it takes practice.
12. Begin again— We’re still in lockdown. This isn’t a happy ending. This is me learning new habits, new ways of being. Tapping into moments of joy and peace being inside. And getting back into the sea