Writing this post has proved trickier than I thought: not because I have no views on isolation living or because they are too complex to get down on paper/screen (frankly, they are pretty basic). It’s not what I have to say, it’s the context. There are more than a million people infected in the world, tens of thousands dying and worse to come. Even those whose health is not directly affected can be severely, tragically impacted. It’s a new, perverse application of intersectionality: there are people who are physically and mentally healthy, well off and well-connected, still have their jobs, don’t have children or if they do, have help. And then there the (newly) jobless, the poor, the mentally fragile, the lonely, the single parents, the frontline workers, the freelancers – often in combinations that make coping very difficult, if not impossible.  It’s a good time to be privileged.

As is obvious by now, I decided to write this post anyway. In fact, I decided to write several posts, as this one ballooned into something unmanageable. Those of us who are lucky to have a job and the ability to do it, also have – I believe – a responsibility to remain productive and useful. So I’ve written down some of my thoughts that could potentially be helpful for making sense of the situation. This is directed at people who are in a broadly similar situation to mine: office workers who don’t really have bigger problems than staying focused. However, if you feel that this is not the time for someone in her large Brussels house with a live-in nanny and an EU job to give you life advice: I fully see your point.  

For those who are still interested – in the end it’s probably a good thing it took me longer to write than originally planned, as I now have more evidence to draw conclusions from. I have been in partial isolation for three weeks and a bit: ‘partial’ because I am required to be in the office occasionally, but I stay home most days and work from here. These are my general musings on the new normal, more concrete stuff to follow in volume 2.

Observe, lord Burghley

It has been very interesting to observe what your life looks like when you are suddenly off the autopilot. Everything is more clearly illuminated, even though these things may be mundane and of no interest to anyone but you. It’s therefore a good time to discard some habits that are maybe not that useful, once you have noticed and thought about them. What makes it challenging is that while lifestyle gurus recommend changing one or two habits at a time, you may need to build up a whole new system in a matter of days, to keep functioning.

There is a lot of talk at the moment about how the crisis makes us contemplate what’s really important in life and that’s surely a good thing. What I have in mind is less lofty and more pragmatic – simply examining what we spend our time on, how and why. Then you can decide what you want to keep, what to add and how to make that happen in these unusual circumstances. It is a very small and silly thing, but I have for example realised I drink three coffees a day, without fail. I did it before lockdown as well, but never really noticed it, because I drank them in different places and contexts and it was easy to pretend that I drank less than I did. At home, the empty Nespresso capsules are impossible to escape or ignore. In the end, this may not be a problem, but any kind of improvement depends on having a clear picture of reality.

The importance of the correct diagnosis

As I mentioned above, people’s experiences in this emergency vary widely and that’s true even among people who are in similar circumstances. Some differences are very obvious: for example, I don’t struggle with distant learning, as I only have one child, she is no longer that small and we have a nanny who helps. Other differences are more subtle. I am for example not an anxious person by nature and although the news DOES get me down and I CAN wind myself up thinking about all the things that can go wrong, I’m able to avoid it most of the time, if I put my mind to it.

Some people love having more time with their family, others find it suffocating. Some people cannot deal with staying inside all the time, others quite like it. My challenges haven’t really changed: there’s always too much I want to do and not enough time to do it. Partly, this problem also stems for early misdiagnosis – I thought I would have much more ‘free’ time and I proceeded to fill that time with all kinds of stuff, before realising that there is in fact no free time and I need to focus on prioritisation (of which more later).  The point is to be honest about things that you find problematic and not spend time fixing issues you think you should have or pretending to love something you don’t. You may have thought you’d enjoy cooking three times every day, but if that’s not really the case, admit it. And then proceed to solve whatever issues you actually have.

Priorities, dear boy, priorities

If you are like me, you are surely tempted to think that working from home brings some efficiencies (no need to go to the office! less work because of the crisis!) and you will therefore be able to do all these other things you’ve always wanted to do. This of course completely ignores the fact that my ‘commute’ was about 10 minutes, that I had way too much work to begin with and that the lockdown also brings new responsibilities. Sometime during the second week, when the workload increased again after the initial dip, I realised I had overextended myself and allowed myself three priorities. So there are now three things I do every day: exercise, studying French and reading. This seems about the right amount, as I have managed to stick with it almost 100%.

What I did not expect is the order of the priorities: exercise has moved to number one, as I simply must do it if I don’t go outside. And doing my French homework or tapping away on Duolingo has often proven easier to focus on than books. I do read daily, but often it’s very little and in genres one could call ‘light’. Sometimes I have to remind myself that it’s OK and I don’t have to feel guilty about not reading 10 books a month. That standard exists only in my head and it’s currently not useful. When our situation changes, it’s obvious that our priorities may change as well and clinging to some past version of them is neither helpful nor wise.

You can get used to anything

I have always been rather proud of my ability to adapt to things – work environments, social situations, different countries and languages. What has been abundantly clear in recent weeks is that this in fact goes for the entire human race. If we have to, we adapt. And if need be, we can do it very quickly and thoroughly. This is of course mostly good news: in this case, adapting is literally a question of survival. It’s also proof that changing our lives isn’t necessarily as difficult as we sometimes think it is.

But this also makes me cautious. Not all change is positive. I think it’s more obvious on the societal level, where illiberal tendencies are emerging or strengthening in many countries. There is potential for negative personal change as well, however, be it the temptation to never rise from the couch again or something more sinister. So it’s a good idea to remain vigilant about how our life and ourselves are changing. Nobody wants to emerge from the crisis a worse person, right?

I realise this has been a very vague and rambling post, without hardly any concrete tips or ideas. I will focus on these in the next post, coming tomorrow. I have been unable to write for about two weeks, but now it seems possible and interesting again, so I will be posting several days in a row about the current state of affairs, if all goes well. In the mean time – how are you holding up?