Going Underground?

I wonder if you have ever seen the film Sliding Doors.  The lead character (Gwyneth Paltrow) is muddling through life, in and out of jobs and in a relationship with a man she doesn’t know is being unfaithful to her.  One day, whilst heading for the tube, she just misses it and the doors slide shut, the scene is then reversed and we start to see two stories; one which carries on from when she has just missed her tube, and the other showing her life as it would happen if she makes it just in time to get through those sliding doors.

I mention this because, during these hours where I find myself awake instead of sleeping, I look at my google calendar to see what would have been scheduled in, were it not for Covid19. It’s like I am living my own movie of Sliding Doors.

I got home from work yesterday (I promised this blog was going to be positive so I will spare you the detail of the bare shelves which awaited me at my local Coop), switched on Five Live as I unpacked the random items I’d managed to buy (who knew everyone hated tinned pink salmon?) and as one of my twins settled herself on the sofa, thumbing though YouTube via our FireStick TV (last night for the first time in three years we had to reboot it, likely due to everyone else being online at home) I told her she would have to wait as we needed to watch the now daily press conference on Sky News at 5pm. Scowl.

I poured myself a glass of wine and turned up the volume as my three children parked up next to me on the sofa, a little like the opening credits of The Simpsons; Ben cracking open a beer after a full day on the building site, wet hair and smelling soapy (yes we have some), Emmy open mouthed that she’s just made me a tea but I’m already on the wine and Lucy tutting as I shush them all so I can hear what is being said in regards to some kind of government package for people.

It’s not difficult for my children to understand what’s happening in the world, such is the information feed of their social channels; they often know what’s going on before me, although in this fake news world, I have to correct them sometimes. Of course, it’s much harder for Trump to deny Covid19 than it is to pretend climate change doesn’t exist, but that’s perhaps a debate for another post.

Has there ever been a Friday night like this one in my own lifetime, or even my parents?  The temptation to jump on Twitter was great, however, something made me stop. I put my phone back down thinking to myself, I needed to listen.  To take stock.  To breath in the enormity of what I was hearing.  The word unprecedented, repeatedly being used on TV, the reaction of news anchors in regard to the unfolding reality of the new March 2020, was heard in their voices, seen on their faces.  Mark Austin describing the scenes in London, as the place where he was born, where for a moment, to me, he felt like a family member, opening up his feelings about the enormity and shock of how in just a few short days our country is being ground to a halt. The economics editor Ed Conway, wide eyed, apologising for his words if they were sounding hyperbolic but that he had to express, nothing would ever be the same again.

So here we are.  Here I am.  Looking at my calendar for 21 March 2020.  It is a day which has been ingrained in my mind since the beginning of the year.

Postponed but not cancelled

Today I was meant to be holding a clothes swapping event in Eastbourne, known as Swish.  I had had the idea as part of an initiative called, Spring Clearing Week, which is organised by a national professional organising body of which I am a member (www.apdo.co.uk). This year’s theme was focusing on fashion or rather sustainable fashion; what could we do collectively and as individuals to offer an alternative to fast fashion.  How could any of us have known that in its own way Covid19 would do much of this for us. After all, you need planes to ship garments across to us from Asia, people need money to pop into Primark; that’s of course if they are even open.

I have said to a few close friends over the last 12-18 months that I was worried about the state of the world.  People dependent on anti-depressants, teachers seemingly stressed out beyond belief, kids self-harming at alarming rates, money and possession obsessed Instagram stars, hate fuelled Brexit conversations, Twitter wars.  I have felt a sense that somehow, the world would need to change.  And it now has.

In my own little way, I was hoping to do some of that world-changing myself. I have been so happy since the beginning of the year, with a renewed focus on my clothes swapping event.  It started from absolutely nowhere; in fact, it began by a simple Facebook post asking the local community if they would be interested in a clothes swap event in Eastbourne.  I had loads of response and people tagging friends and asking to be involved which was when I knew I was on to something.  It wasn’t a new phenomenon although I didn’t know whether there was still an appetite for it. There absolutely is.

The women I have met since starting to organise this event has been like a hidden box of treasure.  People coming forward with offers of help to organise the swap, advice given to me about grants I can apply for, props I can use on the day, information about venues to hold the event, introductions to people within the Eastbourne Eco Action group, who shared a blog I wrote about the event and countless other goodwill gestures to assist in facilitating the event going ahead.  I even managed to get myself in the Eastbourne Herald!

My Eastbourne Herald Write Up

So today was the day it was going ahead, which I postponed earlier in the week, when I knew, from what was happening in Italy, Spain and France, what was coming. But postponed isn’t cancelled.  These are two very different words.  We are currently on hold.

My swish event, for me personally has assisted in helping me to focus on things other than my own mind; in other words, it has been doing wonders for my mental health.  I have inadvertently mended a lot which has been wrong in my head; thinking about the planet, how we can work together for the greater good, how there are people in your local community you wouldn’t otherwise realise existed if you kept yourself closed off from the world (ironic at this point, granted), how face to face conversation is so much better than text or emails, how there are millions of good initiatives going on across the world by others who wish to help to make a difference, how clothes is just a tiny fraction of what it is all about.

Never has this message seemed as important as right now.  In this digital age we can spread so much goodness between one another just by the click of a button.  Esther Rantzen, who at 79 years old herself, was on TV earlier in the week, explaining how her and her daughter were self-isolating, maintained that people need contact more than ever.  She was encouraging as many people as possible to jump online and get involved in joint initiatives.

For me personally, today I will be heading into my tiny patio garden to get it ready for the warmer weather; I job I do at this time of year anyway.  I’ll make a video out of it to put on my YouTube channel, which hopefully others can get some inspiration from, if they are struggling for things to do at home.

These are uncertain times.  My twin daughters not able to sit their GCSEs this year, anxious about college and their longer terms plans, people losing jobs, panic buyers and of course the worst of it being the unnecessary deaths of potentially thousands, if people don’t do the right thing, to ease the pressure on our vital frontline NHS staff.

This is a Sliding Doors film like no other, of which is yet to be written.