Thinking back to a year ago - I was a few days away from my first-ever solo getaway, a three-day stay in Melkbosstrand, a seaside town up the west coast.
A number of things had prompted
me to make the decision to give myself that unprecedented treat: a colleague
had been talking to me about her family’s holiday plans, introducing me to the
accessible and affordable world of Airbnb accommodation, I had a looming
writing deadline, I’d been feeling really bogged down and in need of time to
myself and some kind of newness, and I’d been walking on the beach regularly with
a friend and dreaming about being close to the ocean every day. I had a bit of money to spare (a rare thing,
believe me), so I made up my mind to do it.
A week before I went away, the
World Health Organisation declared COVID-19 a global pandemic and South
Africa had just announced its first confirmed case. There was a general awareness of
the disease and the only public sign that anything was different was that, at
some shop entrances, someone sprayed your hands with sanitiser before allowing you to enter.
In SA, masks were not a thing, yet, nor had a lockdown been announced.
We all had a sense that things were
going to change, but I went on my little trip blissfully unaware of how precious
the timing was. I checked into the Airbnb place at 2pm on the 18th
of March, slept there for three nights, and checked out again at 10am on the 21st.
For a few magical days, I thoroughly enjoyed my daily walks on the beach and
eating at restaurants with spectacular sea views. The day I arrived home, my
daughter left for a few days away with her friends. They’d also opted for Airbnb, but ventured out much further than I had. My place was a
45-minute drive away, but theirs was about 2 hours away. I was at peace with my
chosen destination, especially as I was alone.
In South Africa, it’s not just rare but extremely inadvisable for a
woman to travel long distances alone. It’s way too dangerous. (South Africa
went into hard lockdown on 27 March 2020.)
One year later, I can’t even begin to explain how much life has changed. There are the obvious things, like having to get used to being placed under lockdown, wearing masks, sanitising and practising social distance, as well as working from home – for those lucky enough to remain employed. But there are so many other unspoken things that are going to be felt for a long time – the emotional and psychological effects of this pandemic. For people who have lost loved ones to COVID, there’s the sometimes-unbearable burden of grief, along with the shock and anger that, while so many others survived, their loved ones had not.
I could write volumes about how
different I feel, but some of the changes/awarenesses are too personal to blog
about. There are many shifts in consciousness that I’m aware of and so many
more that I’ve yet to discover. One thing’s indisputable – I have changed. I
think it’s almost impossible to live through a global pandemic and remain
unchanged. For people who survive, this pandemic will always form part of their
life story. In simple terms, there’ll always be life before and after COVID-19.
The next question is – how do we
re-enter the world, after lockdown? Most of us look different, we feel
different and our priorities have changed. After successfully working from
home, using wifi at my own expense, avoiding the insanity and expense of
peak-hour traffic twice a day, and continuing to attend all the required
meetings, remain in contact with clients and manage my team, I can’t quite wrap
my head around returning to an office from 9 - 5, five days a week. The only
reason people would insist on that is that they haven’t yet figured out other
ways to hold staff accountable. Surely
the decision-makers know that things can’t return to how they were before. More
importantly, they shouldn’t have to. If
leaders aren’t comfortable with a home-based workforce, then a mixed model
should be considered. In fact, you’d probably have a much happier, more
productive workforce. Here I’m referring to those who’d choose that, if given
the choice. I know many people who’d prefer to go to an office every day and
not stay home.
The thing is, the world has
changed. A lot more is possible through remote work than was realised. We
adapted because we had to. And now we need to keep adapting, at all levels.
When we started working from
home, we asked a manager if the company was going to assist us with data. We
were told that, since we weren’t going to be spending on transport, we
should use that money to cover our data. For most of us, the most natural route
was to equip our homes with wifi/fibre, in order to have the entire household
connected, for work and school purposes. One year later, giving up that fibre
installation is not an option. Travelling
to and from work will incur expense that we’ve partially allocated to
connectivity. Tricky. I wonder how much
leeway there’ll be.
For now, I’ll continue working
from home and enjoying this particular pace. I love not sitting in stressful,
slow-moving, bumper-to-bumper traffic twice a day and I love working in the cosy
familiarity of my home, my haven. Is that selfish, or is that just self-aware?
I’m 59 and I can safely say I know what does and doesn’t work for me. I’ve
known for a while that I prefer solitude, and I’ve always worked at my best
when left to my own devices.
Until I’m obliged to do things differently, this is where I’ll be.
