The pandemic might end during the course of the year. Or it might not. It pays to be prepared for the worst.
A couple of days ago I read an evocative travel book which made me long to leave my well-worn surroundings in search of the new. Except that, with Omicron surging in Sydney, and probably at all the destinations I want to visit, the risk of infection has never been higher. So, I'm unfortunately forced to conclude that leaving Australia is a non-starter.
Maybe I should stop reading travel books? It seems sensible. Spend more time outside in fresh air? Maybe, except that I can't rely on my fellow citizens to wear masks when they approach me... today a woman came up to me and asked me about bus routes. I quickly pulled my mask up over my nose, hoping she would follow suit. She did, but with a delay. Grrr!
I can't help but think that the longer this goes on, the more we are all suffering. If the pandemic ended tomorrow, it couldn't come soon enough. But it won't. I think of all the women who are trapped in abusive relationships, or people of any gender facing violence of any kind. It is documented that men with violent tendencies tend to take it out on their partners when faced with the extra stress of a lockdown or having to spend more time indoors. I also feel for the teenagers who have difficult relationships with their parents and can’t retreat to the relative safety of school, libraries or malls, where they can seek out healthy interaction with their friends.
The world turns, and those of us who have survived are looking worse for wear every day. As global heating slowly takes its toll, the environment will be increasingly harsh and hostile. How many kinds of trauma will we live through?
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