For 19 days now we’ve been confined to our temporary home. In amongst the tears and broken dreams there has been much to be grateful for.
I couldn’t ask for a nicer place to unpack the emotions of the premature end to our travels, as this bach in the Coromandel where we are living out our lockdown. I still feel this is only a blip in our travel dreams. But I can say that, protected as I am in this country from the hard reality that is Covid in the rest of the world. While my wandering soul is anxious to know this is but temporary, even now I can see that the world has changed. None of us will get through this unaffected.
So much of the last few weeks that has undone the rhythm of life for many, is already familiar to us. For nine months we have spent 24/7 together. We’ve adopted a slower pace, learned to make do, with minimal possessions and sometimes restricted food options, homeschooling and life-learning. On the other hand our future plans and dreams have stalled abruptly. We currently have no home or life here. We barely slept in the 60 hours prior to our arrival back on NZ soil and it took the first two weeks to catch up, to slow down and face this new reality. And we have three kids! Of course it’s not the homecoming anyone imagined. The boys are processing their own experiences and emotions and some days we drive each other up the wall. Thank goodness for beautiful ocean walks in our front yard.
I’ve had the first surreal supermarket visit on day 15, where we all patiently practised social distancing standing two metres apart and waited for five people to leave in order that five of us could enter. And listened to regular Covid announcements over the radio reminding us to keep our distance and practice good hygiene. As my first re-entry into NZ society since coming through the airport it was enough to make we want to laugh and cry. Bizarre. I bought for another two weeks, hoping no one would accuse me of panic buying, when really I was just dealing with the regular load of life with three boys.
Like many we have worried about work and where we will live and a surprising amount of tears have been shed. But the reality is we are going to be fine. Where many will not. Preparing lunch one day in our kitchen high above an incredible expanse of Pacific Ocean, I see the dolphins I’ve been scanning for each day playing in the waves and while Max & I desperately want to go swim with them, it can wait. We’re incredibly fortunate, and I try not to focus on guilt, aiming for gratitude. I can only hope we emerge from this with a new appreciation for a different way of living. A break away from the consumer driven, earth damaging existence we’ve been living to date.
