Small and Precious Orbits.

Steps walked: 19218 (early jog, and two trips to the North Mid and back).

Furthest point travelled: 1 mile. Hospital Chapel.

Face to face non-household interactions: Over a dozen again, what with one thing and the other.

Track of the day: ‘Crazy’ – Patsy Cline.

            The week before Boris closed the pub, I had the coronavirus half a dozen times or so; well, I thought I did. Was that a cough, or the cough? Was I feeling a bit hot in bed because I’d forgotten to open the window, or because, you know. I read that fatigue was an early symptom; the next day I was sunk in lethargy. You get the picture: maybe you’ve been through something similar. That week I kept an electronic thermometer near the front door, and checked myself obsessively every time I was getting ready to leave the house; I didn’t want to be out and about putting other people at risk.

            The fact is, I was paying attention to myself with almost morbid scrupulousness; every modest fluctuation in my health was noticed, logged, and fretted over.

            Paying close attention.

            There’s a strange kind of attentiveness when I’m on a long distance walk. Three things I focus on in particular; the ground beneath my feet (don’t want to trip or stub a toe), the high far horizon (what weather is heading my way?), and how my body is doing (is that niggle in my heel just a momentary discomfort, or the start of a blister?). It’s wonderfully liberating to have such limited and clearly defined concerns, for hour upon hour and mile upon mile.

            Paying close attention.

            As this lockdown lengthens like shadows at dusk, I think we’re probably going to need to be paying close attention to ourselves. Did I just snap at the boys because they’re being annoying, or? Am I feeling tired because I haven’t had enough fluids today, or? Am I just feeling sad, or? It’s going to be a time for paying attention, a time for paying close attention, to ourselves and those in our small and precious orbits.

            Since the schools shut, I’ve been fighting a bit of a losing battle to get my boys playing outside more. This morning I discovered the unlikeliest of allies: ‘Boys, scientists say that staying outside helps fight the coronavirus. And if you don’t go out, President Trump’s going to come and inject you with bleach.’

That should do it. Yep.