I started the year manning a Relief Centre in Tallangatta during the bushfire crisis. I remember thinking at the time, "I had a feeling 2020 was going to be a big year, but I don’t think it will work out how I thought…”
Days later during a phone call with my sister, she told me the outbreak of a virus in China had delayed her planned work trip. I wrote it off as insignificant - we’re dealing with a seared and scarred Australian landscape!
Maybe I’m the only one who feels like we seem to be in a rolling cycle of crises and minimally effective recovery. When the worst of the Global Financial Crisis (or the Great Recession as it is known in the rest of the world) hit, mostly it was patched over so that we could stagger on as we did before. In Australia, we could almost pretend that things weren’t really that bad in the rest of the world, and go about spending our stimulus payments to divert the worst of it from our shores. The worst bushfires in Australia’s history (or the years’ long drought that came before) wasn’t enough to really force us to stop.
Flash forward to present day and it turns out its the measures introduced to slow the spread of the global COVID-19 outbreak that have prompted a three month shut down of most of the global economy might be enough to prompt a shift. But perhaps it isn’t the economic hold pattern that’s triggered this.
I've previously discussed with friends that in an era of increasingly fragmented public attention, experiences of collective awareness, consciousness - universality - are so rare. So it has been so curious to experience a rare moment of it when that universality is forcing us to pause en masse - and to go inward.
Once again, it seems Australia will escape the worst of the effects of the initial COVID-19 outbreak - that is, the health effects. I know the most vulnerable are likely to be the most acutely impacted by any major economic shock, and I count myself as one of the (very) lucky ones, but from this position of immense privilege I can't help but notice that this moment to stop and reevaluate seems to feel like a blessing for many. I think it is telling that this (forced) pause is prompting all sorts of really positive self-reflection, recalibration, and ... rest.
In my case, this period has also coincided with resets in my home life (moving house), work life (changing jobs) and health (clarity on some undiagnosed health issues). It feels impossible to continue as before with so much change. Time away from people has given me an enforced barrier - preventing me from absorbing priorities, stress, drama that actually aren’t mine. Instead I’ve been thinking about what MY priorities / values / focus will look like when we’re unleashed again on the world: more time for things that nourish me - creating, learning, being with friends. I’ve also been thinking about what I want to discard: stressing about things I can’t control, political hobbyism (let’s be honest, it’s just gossiping), mindless consumption of all kinds.
This crisis has unfolded in an entirely different way - quietly. This quietness has prompted us to examine our essence. It has given us the opportunity to actually think about what a new normal might look like - for each of us as individuals, and for all of us together. (Also, how great to experience that line between collective and individual becoming blurrier as our own experiences mirror others’.)
There's also an innate sense that perhaps when we start again things won't be the same. That the recalibration we're engaging in individually may also be taking place at a global level too, though it remains to be seen what that might look like...
I've been fascinated to witness the reflections of some very brilliant people who are documenting their musings, none better than Nick Cave. This extract from a recent Red Hand Files letter perfectly sums it up:
"A friend called our new world ‘a ghost ship’ — and maybe she is right. She has recently lost someone dear to her and recognises acutely the premonitory feeling of a world about to be shattered — and that we will need to put ourselves back together again, not only personally, but societally. In time we will be given the opportunity to either contract around the old version of ourselves and our world — insular, self-interested and tribalistic — or understand the connectedness and commonality of all humans, everywhere. In isolation, we will be presented with our essence — of what we are personally and what we are as a society. We will be asked to decide what we want to preserve about our world and ourselves, and what we want to discard."
This crisis has exposed the giant gaps in the way we operate as a global collective. It has brought the need for action into stark focus, and shown just how hollow public discourse about equity, social support, and environmental impacts have become. It has created a sliver of possibility for new ways for our political, social and economic systems.
The thing about a disruption of this scale is that once the worst has passed, we need to reset. This time we have a really unique opportunity to do so in a way that serves us all. And the great thing is that now we actually understand what all really means.