Is it possible to reconnect to the things that really matter?
I continue to hear people referring to the “return to normal”; references to the “new normal”, and desperate pleas of “getting back to how things were”. There’s a fine line to understanding, I think, what people really mean though. I think we all yearn for our total freedom and to not have to think about the distance and protective measures required for interacting with others. However, to go back exactly to how things were would be a total tragedy. We are exercising more; more conscious of social interaction and wildlife and the environment are both thriving more than they have in tends of years because of the reduced human pollution. Surely we don’t mean to undo all the good we have – all-be-it unintentionally – done?
I predict we will soon see another rise in the need to connect with nature again, as further travel and social restriction sanctions are placed on more of the world due to the rising cases of corona virus; the fallout being a return to an especially isolating disconnection. But also a return to work and whatever individual “normal: looks like because with that will come different stresses and anxieties. And we’ll need an outlet for that.
Just like during lockdown, more of us will experience the frustration, anxiety, tension, and stress that comes as a result of our disconnection with nature. The desperation to be healed – all-be-it a largely subconscious desperation – was well documented
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I’m not a religious person, nor am I overly spiritual. I believe in people; in love; kindness; dignity and respect, so I suppose you could say I’m sensitive: I love wholly and, vicariously by default, the losses are painful.
I like science; evidence; facts and at school was that – with hindsight, utterly irritating – child who always asked: “why?”. Exasperated teaching staff would have to shut down the endless pushing with: “it just is, okay?!”. I had a suspicion then that they might not have known the answer to my interrogation.
Despite all this, Friday was a day I can’t help but keep coming back to in my mind, and one I’m certain my memory of will never leave me. Almost one month to the day on what would have been his 13th birthday, I had to say the final goodbye to my beloved dog, Zeus. He was truly my best friend; my wingman – my buddy. For many years he was the only reason I returned home. Growing up I’d had dogs all my life, but there was something deeply special about Zeus. Everyone who met him commented on his personality, and wanted to take him home with them. He had a mighty presence; a captivating sensitivity about him, and an uncanny ability to know when something wasn’t right. He’d slowly approach to sit closely beside you, offering his awesome amber eyes and, if needed, a gentle lick. I spoke to him daily; sought him out regularly to be with him, and felt his ready reassurance.
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