WORDS & PICTURES: Abi Prowse
What a whirlwind year it’s been. As the seconds ticked away on the evening of the 31st December 2019, we clutched our drinks tight and our friends tighter, none of us ever envisioning what the world would have in store over the coming months. No one could have known that 2020 would be the year that the world came to a standstill; the year that a global pandemic brought almost every country across the planet to its knees; the year which incited the largest – and most long-overdue – civil rights movement in history. For so many, this year has been the toughest yet, for a multitude of reasons. It has been the year in which we have been forced to take a step back, to come to terms with the idea of ‘home’, to be separated physically from the ones we love, and to reflect upon ourselves and the things that really matter to us. But what if this was exactly the year we’ve been waiting for?
My lockdown life has, for the most part, been pretty idyllic – something for which I am extremely grateful, knowing that this has not been the case for so many. Choosing to isolate in my childhood home among the rolling hills of the Hertfordshire countryside, this perennial jet-setter and serial suitcase kid has finally been forced to stop moving. When my mornings once consisted of hastily tugging on some clothes in the 5-minute window between the alarm going off and leaving the house, grabbing a quick coffee to-go and slurping it on the bus as I checked my emails, my 45-minute commute has dropped quite drastically to just 23 steps – yes, I’ve counted. With nowhere to be, now, I take my time, making myself a cup of tea and skimming the glossy pages of a magazine as I eat my breakfast, phone-free. A small gesture, perhaps, but one that I know I’ll be in no hurry to give up when life returns to ‘normal’ – whatever that looks like, now.
In fact, my life has become based around these small rituals of self-care. Every day, I take the time to do things I would otherwise have considered a little too indulgent: I have a bubble bath each evening; I dance around the kitchen as I make my morning coffee; I keep a daily gratitude journal; I’ve finally fallen into step with a nightly skincare routine – and my acne-prone skin is praising me for it. I’ve learnt that, amongst the madness of life as we know it – amid the morning rush and the endless to-do lists and the constant need to keep moving – these seemingly inconsequential moments we take for ourselves can have a lasting effect upon our happiness.
Never in my life have I been for so many walks: I can walk for hours, now, listening to podcasts, or enjoying the feel of fresh air against my skin. I’m no longer wary of being alone with my thoughts, so used to being in my own company that I can feel I crave it. Since lockdown began, I have read eighteen books; instead of reading them on a crowded bus, being jostled around by commuters, or quickly skimming through the pages in a café as I wait for a friend, I now settle myself down to really absorb the words between the covers. Mary Berry would be proud of my baking abilities. The cinnamon buns I have taken to making each weekend take almost an entire day to bake – but time is something I’ve had plenty of. I struggle to remember why I was ever in such a rush before.
2020: The Creativity Renaissance
Over the course of the past three months, we have come to understand more than ever the importance of checking in – not just with yourself, but with the ones you love. Although separated from my friends by a distance that feels interminable, I feel closer to them now in ways I never would have before. And though I long for the day that I can throw my arms around them in giddy, carefree joy, I have come to crave our weekly video calls, our daily stream of messages, and – more recently – our hours-long socially-distanced picnics. Our conversations have grown deeper, the way we communicate centred around our emotions, and our reflections upon the people we are. This has only brought us closer, connecting us in ways we may never have previously had time for.
2020 is the year of change. It’s been a year of fear, of adaptation, of progress. It’s been the year that the world joined hands, and came together in the face of some of the toughest challenges in a generation. For me, this year has been one of self-reflection and of growth: of questioning my beliefs and challenging the way I look at the world, and the ways in which I take certain things for granted. One of the greatest lessons I’ve learnt this year? To take a breather. Life doesn’t have to be a constant stream of activity, flitting from place to place and person to person, in order to be fulfilling. Lockdown life has been speckled with pockets of joy, of moments that would once have been overlooked amidst the chaos of ‘normal’ life; and I like to think that I’ll bring these habits with me as the world steps into this new chapter together.
