It is dark at 4pm, the trees are leafless and the skies often grey and heavy with a cold damp. Most of the country is in Tier 4 and the numbers are still rising. The world is in disarray, thrown off course by Covid and scrambling around trying to get back on track. We are nine months in and despite the prospect of a vaccine, the promised light at the end of the tunnel still seems too far away for comfort.
Winter is a time for resting and reflecting, for hibernating even — and let’s face it, there is little else to do at the moment, so why not indulge in a little of this? For my part, I am really curious about the choices we have all made over the course of the year and the extent to which they have been consistent with or different to those we usually make. I am curious about the degree to which I have been shaped by the events of 2020 and the mark these times have left on me so far. I honestly find it hard to tell and figure that it is still too early to know.
In the immediate, however, it is definitely a time of pause after a period of frenetic activity and change. In the last weeks, I have packed up one home, bid farewell to four years in Scotland and returned to London, a city which remains the closest place to home for me. While the move was forced on me, I chose the destination, made the leap, loved the car migration south and rejoiced at the sense of achievement as I pulled up outside the door of my new home.
And now….?
New beginnings are a funny thing. I mean, first of all, at what point do they start? Is it the point at which you notice your unease with the “as is”? Or when you start dreaming about something new? Is it when you make the decision to act? Or when you take the first steps towards the new? I have definitely crossed a threshold now and am literally and metaphorically, standing at the top of Primrose Hill looking out across Regents Park and the city to the south, wondering what the next chapter will bring. To be honest, I have no idea. None of us do, right? Especially at the moment. But I do know that I love new beginnings and I am grateful to myself for having squeezed one in at a time when most mornings feel like Groundhog Day. And for this reason, I know that whatever this year has done to me, it has not dampened my spirit of adventure nor my capacity for living life as fully as possible. So I will spend the rest of 2020 nesting in my new home, finding my feet and exploring the pathways of Hampstead Heath and other North London parks.
You see, we can always create a new beginning — even in times like these.