the isolation diaries - week one

These are very, very strange and difficult times we are living through.  Something I honestly thought I would never see in my lifetime.  I've decided to keep a weekly "diary" to document life right now and to share how I think and feel with anyone who may be interested.

These are my "isolation diaries".

Last Friday (20 March) I drove up the Swansea Valley to our “paradise” and took a photo while breathing in the fresh air and listening to nature in total and utter peace.

Nothing unusual about that you may say, but that was the last time I left the confines of my home.

Since then the furthest I’ve ventured is into my garden.  

Luckily, the weather at the moment is glorious.  And I recognise how lucky I am to have even my own private outdoor space.

I’m expecting, as a myeloma patient, to receive instructions from my health board soon that my self-solation is mandatory.  At the moment I’m isolating myself from this corona virus voluntarily, and while other people are able to go outdoors for very limited purposes (shopping, essential work and exercise only) I’m staying put at home.

As someone who enjoys an outdoor life, this is hell.  Yes, I realise the importance of me and others like me (about 1.2 million here in the UK) being “shielded” from the virus as much as possible, but the impact on our mental health must be managed too.

So, what to do?

Well, I’ve decided to use this time productively and learn some new skills.  Photoshop springs immediately to mind – I’ve only just scratched the surface of that.  Also, I want to improve my macro-photography skills.  I’m no good at it as I’ve just not got the patience required.

On a complete tangent, I want to do some calligraphy.  It’s something that’s always appealed to me and though I have dabbled in the past I’ve never really had a concentrated effort to do it properly.

Whatever, I feel fine right now physically, but I am worried.  Worried that Lisa will get the virus while out shopping for us; worried that any of my family will get it; worried about the lasting effects on everyone’s lives and livelihoods.

it's not much, but better than nothing

My trip into nature though taught me one thing: life goes on and will continue to do so.

Our existence as humans on this planet is fleeting in the grand scheme of things.  The tens of thousands of years we’ve been here is a mere blink of a cosmic eye.  It’s nothing.  And if our way of life is changed forever, it’s still nothing really.

Last week I watched the streams flowing down the valley as they’ve done basically for ever.  I watched our wonderful wildlife go about its way – the daily struggle to stay alive and I realised that we are not important.

At all.