Tangled Knots of Confusion and Bewilderment.
I placed the pen down onto the table, my head bounced upwards, my shoulders squared. The mantra phrase of the 2020s had once again made its ugly presence known bringing in unease. The phrase unskins me, the phrase I shield my ears from, the phrase I may be in denial of. The phrase — the new normal.
The word normal has always caused a flash of rage to smoulder for if I couldn’t grasp whatever ‘normal’ is supposed to be, what hope is there for me in this ‘new normal.’
I moved from my sitting position to the radio and with a swift flick of fingers , I turned it off. The chocolate velvet voice which had mouthed “Of course, travel will be different, we will be wearing masks and keeping our distance for at least two years” tightened my whole body.
My eyes gaze towards a small backpack, which has been strategically placed by my wardrobe, and it has stood there appearing somewhat dejected by its non-use for at least thirteen months. Whenever, I feel restless, I glance over, it gives me a sense of reassurance that one day I shall leave Ballydehob for an adventure. I want nothing less than an adventure, my whole body demands it but the question has to be posed what kind of adventure can one have when the threat of Covid19 may be lurking, invisible, somewhere, out there, everywhere?
Mykines, an island I discovered due to researching for an article for a writer’s workshop is one of my intended destinations when restrictions are lifted and we can resume non-essential travel. As far as I am aware, Mykines is not a popular tourist destination, so it may seem the perfect place to go to avoid crowds. But, the thought of travelling with masks, hand gels, social distancing is somewhat off-putting.
I had grown weary of flying several years before Covid-19. Airports were no longer the fun place as they were when I first started travelling. Then, flying had a more luxurious, sedate and comfortable appeal to it. I remember passing time, with a cup of tea, in conversation with a woman who was flying to Glasgow to train as an actress in the Citizen’s Theatre. In recent years, my conversations have become less engaging and I always have this sense of being pushed forward and corralled ,so much so that I started taken the ferry to the UK.
If the radio commentator is correct, it may result in me restricting my travel plans. I ask myself, whether I would really like to go to a country, which may not be able to afford to vaccinate their population and subconsciously the threat may be there in my mind niggling! I have always maintained that a global pandemic ought not be dealt with on an individual country basis, surely that’s common sense. Then, I am silenced into the realization, that I have moved into fear, for a moment a wave of calm comes upon me but it is soon elbowed out with the thought that it may not really be a wise thing to do. A scenario interrupts my thoughts, I am sauntering along white sands, another peak of Covid19 and the country is put on lockdown, I am stranded. “Hey but didn’t I say that I wanted some adventure.”
It has to be said that the fears of others may also simmer covertly and then boil over to rage and into policing behaviours. The memory is rekindled of being on a plane with a man who disliked flying, he started panicking and shouting. While, I fully understood that the man was in a state of anxiety, thirty five thousand feet in an enclosed space nullifies understanding. I can imagine,eyes, wide and suspicious settling on me when I cough, it’s an allergy symptom. It may take some time for people to unlearn Covid socialization behaviours, but it also has to be said that many will make up for lost time and continue living life to the max . The challenge to navigate the rift between these two perspectives could be raw and maybe the best thing to do is to avoid a bustling resort,
“Ah Rae” I whisper “What’s the point in the what ifs, it only curtails life.”
I navigate to my port of comfort — the kitchen, tea solves everything. Well nearly everything except for Covid-19.
It is the mass of information blasting; newspapers, social media, television, experts, opinions, disagreements, conspiracy theories and zoom fatigue. I have become tangled up in the knots of confusion and bewilderment. Tofler calls it ‘future shock’ in that when modern life become overwhelming and dystopian, humans grab onto something that they can cope with.
I can cope with Donegal, and until I can comprehend the difference between wisdom and fear in foreign travel, Donegal will be grand.
