When the Clock Stops

One thing I have appreciated about the enforced self-isolation that has come with the pandemic has been the quiet. I'm not talking about a reduction in purely physical sound, although there is that as well, but the reduction in the mental noise in my head. The cacophany of warring ideas and opportunities that used to fill my mind, aspirational habits, goals of making new friends in a new city, restaurants to try, gyms to sign up for, all of these have dimmed to a quiet murmur. Now, it takes quite a lot of effort to initiate any new endeavour and so I find myself taking careful aim at the few I care about and slowly building out systems and habits to support just those.

I hope that after we are able to go a little more I am able to maintain this sense of quiet and purpose. To do so, perhaps I should reflect on where it comes from. Some contributing factors surely include:

• Flexible work conditions and the temporal freedoms that come with them.
• No social pressure to go out and do what everyone else is doing.
• A much reduced opportunity space of readily available activities.
• Little pressure from friends and loved ones that draw time.

Now, not all of these are ideal in the long term. Particularly that last factor, reconnecting with friends and loved ones is something I would very much like to do. But this temporary respite, even from things I'd like to be doing, has provided some opportunity to reorient myself, hopefully aligning my identity and habits closer to the values I aspire to.

This peace is a little reminiscent of the Camino de Santiago. There was not much to do every day except get up and walk and very little external pressure. It was a great chance for self-reflection and self-realignment.

How have you find this time? Do you find you have changed as a result?