Love in the time of Corona

Opened the door a crack

Wide enough

For the entire world

To pass through

Gabriel Garcia Marquez: Love in the time of Cholera

(Warning: This blog contains scenes that some may find cheesy or corny. Readers discretion advised.)

A withered green bench, paint peeling from years of sun and rain. A rusty metal plaque indicating the name of the generous sponsor of this sweet spot of repose. The heavy branches of a sole pine tree hanging above offering dappled shade from the slowly setting sun. Komorebi. Scattered light filtering through the branches of the tall tree. Peace.

My eyes wander, overlooking my favourite Australian scene: The never ending roll of the calm, deep blue sea, white crested waves gently breaking onto the shore. The sunset painting the beach a golden red. The sand beneath my feet still warm from the day’s heat, giving me sweet little goosebumps. Bliss.

The ocean offers me peace. Calms my mind, body and soul. I sit on that solitary park bench until someone approaches, looking for some rest themselfs. Or just a place to sit. I get up, suddenly remembering social distancing, and leave, the ocean behind me rolling on, completely oblivious to the crazy times we are in.

Life in the times of Corona. I could write about hand-washing and social-distancing. About self-quarantine and empty supermarket shelves. About “Un-Australian” behaviour of hoarding and panic buying, just like the rest of the world. About watching the world around us coming to an abrupt still stand, while we seem to carry on carelessly. Schools remain open, people having brunch in outdoor cafes – laughter, sunshine, blue skies. Paradise still!

I could write about flights being cancelled and borders closing, about feeling trapped on this giant island. About teaching the dream slowly but surely turning into a nightmare. Bushfires. Floods. And now this. A year of teaching the dream.

About having stayed home all week with mild symptoms, too sick to go to school, too well to be tested. Keep a 2 meter distance and wash your hands, they recommend. Knowing damn well how hard it is to keep any distance in a classroom with 23 seven-year olds, I choose to remove myself from the scene.

 I could write about the guilt this causes, leaving your colleagues hanging, about not doing your part. About being on your own 24/7 for days on end, the crazy thoughts that go through your head. The restlessness that takes a hold of my mind and body. My banged up knee shamelessly taking advantage of the situation, forcing me to pause. 

But I don’t want to. I don’t want to add to the misery porn that is going on out there. There is enough of that wherever you look. Instead I want to find love. Love in the time of Corona. And not the love I get from the 70 year old man on the street, pointing out my taped up knee, wanting to share his experiences with knee replacements with me. Thanks, but no thank you.

I am looking for the love that only times like these can give. Like the love for the beauty around me. I might not be going to Tasmania or the Sunshine Coast or any of the gorgeous places Australia has to offer any time soon (Canada – I can hear you say: Well, boohoo! ;). But I’m still in a pretty darn beautiful spot on earth, even in the confined space of my tiny backyard (though my landlady might think I may have lost it, if she watches me wander aimlessly through her yard, taking photos.) 

Turns out there are fall colours even in Downunder and leaves are changing just like back home. Yet another crazy technicoloured flower popping up, rainbow painted parakeets sounding like the Pet Shop Boys. Rainbows in the sky.

The love from people all over the world reaching out –  texting, calling, skyping – ‘cause, to be honest, maybe they got nothing better to do. Yet, who want to know how things are going on the other side of the world (a little upside down, I’d say), whether I am coming home (not for now, though I have thought about it a few times),  and how to make chicken drumsticks (ok, that was just my boys asking). 

The love from people around me – people that have hardly known me for a year. Colleagues, friends, neighbours, strangers… Checking in, cheering up, dropping by to drop off, reaching out, reaching in, reaching me from a 2 meter distance. Love in the time of Corona.

They say the ocean reflects changing colours – just like our emotions. Calm, azure blue waters and wild, dark black waves. Muddy browns after a storm and fiery reds in the rising morning sun. What may seem like just another f***ing beautiful beach, is a sight I’ll never get tired of: the sight of the never ending low rolling ocean waves. Love in times like these.

And so I keep my door a crack wide open – ’cause that’s how the light gets in (Leonard Cohen).