By cwhyte, May 17 2020 09:03PM
With the exception of a few delightful interactions, the last couple of weeks have seen me feeling low. Tired, demotivated, isolated and really rather bleak, at least by my usual standards.
I smiled as I had to remind myself, using the exact same words I say to clients, that there is no competition, and no way to meaningfully measure my experience to anyone elses.
As you can imagine, all mental health lows in my home are treated to rigorous Cognitive Analysis. However it took my Twitter feed to remind me that this period of my pandemic experience isn't simply a plateau path, where all I have to to is keep putting one foot in front of the other to get to the end or even better to get to the free wheeling downhill rush that I'm yearning for.
This period is, in fact, what cyclists call a false flat. It's a deceptive, slow, uphill climb.
As parked cars covered the grass verges by the Cheddar lakes today, and the Fishponds High St was almost as busy on Friday afternoon as it usually is on Thursday lunchtime, my eyes are telling me that 'Things are beginning to return to normal'.
The statistics are telling me that here in the UK 2000 people are still dying with Covid19 every week and that nothing is as normal.
My turn around moment was realising that, emotionally speaking, this false flat means that I have a new framework through which to view my slump. Accepting that I have no control over whether I am in the middle or nearing the end of my pandemic experience; that, despite the evidence of my eyes, normal could be far enough away as to not be worth thinking about; means that I'm now able to once again give myself permission to stop, to take things easy and to pace myself, just as I did at the beginning.
Having done this, (changing my viewpoint) as always, everything seems more manageable and pleasant. Which is a relief I'm relishing.