A friend sent me a Facebook memory yesterday. It was a photo of us at a party on the Christmas of 2019. I was wearing a sparkly top and she was wearing bright red lipstick. There was a gang of friends behind us. It was a classic party picture, big smiles, wine in hand, everyone looking groomed and made up but the first thing I see when I look at the photo is how strained my smile is.
I remember that party. I had come to it straight after a work party which was on the other side of town. By the time I got to my friend’s house, I was already fading and I found it hard to hear what people were saying over the hard surfaces of the kitchen.
There were so many people I loved there but I just wanted to be at home.
Of course, I didn’t go home— I just drank more trying to ramp up energy and chat, spent £25 on an Uber home and felt sick the next day.
I have missed my friends very much this year. I have missed hugs and sitting on their sofas and kissing their kids’ cheeks. I have missed the smell of their perfume, the linking of arms walking down the street, and the ease of being in someone’s company and not having to say much. I’ve missed hanging out.
But I have not missed ‘a social life’ - you know, parties, dinners, drinks. I have not missed the noises and hard surfaces and small talk and drunk talk and the expense of it all.
I have not missed schlepping across town on two trains and a bus. I have not missed the guilt that comes with not doing that and feeling like I am not putting in the work to maintain friendships that I care about.
There have been times of acute loneliness this year, however there have also been times of great peace. I have enjoyed much of this smaller, more local life. I have, at times, really liked my little cocoon.
And so, as Boris outlines a plan for us to get back out into the world by June, a part of me feels weepy at the excitement of hugging friends, another part of me thinks ‘oh shit, it’s all going to get busy again.’
I wonder how we’ll manage re-entry into society. I wonder if we’ll be able to find a balance between saying yes to a full life and saying yes to a quieter life as well.
Although I guess not everyone wants this. Maybe there are lots of people desperate to get back to the party and the pub and the busy-ness? And of course for parents, having children back at school will mean a quieter life…
Anyway, how do you feel about it all?
WHAT I’M BUYING
A friend put a note up on Facebook asking people what their weirdest lockdown purchases have been. She had just ordered an ancestry.com kit to see if her history is more exciting than her present. Another friend told me she has bought a Shakti mat - which is a yoga mat with spikes on it. It’s like a rubber bed of nails. Sounds awful and she says it is: ‘You lie on it and for the first minute you are in so much pain you curse every decision you’ve ever made, but then the pain stops, and when you get up it’s bliss - all the stiffness has gone.’ Another friend has been buying random clothes. I got a text from her last week which read: ‘I’m lonely so I just ordered a pair of dungarees.’ An hour later, another text: ‘Now I’ve bought floral Doc Martens.’ What’s been your weirdest purchase? In the first lockdown, I ordered a ukulele, baking set and a paint kit - and I am now a musical, cake-making Picasso! Ha! Of course I’m not. I haven’t used any of it.
WHAT I’M WATCHING
I started Behind Her Eyes on Monday and really didn’t like it. The acting felt hammy, the dialogue unreal and I gave up on the second episode. Mum, however, soldiered through and texted me last night telling me not to bother, that the ending is ridiculous. I also started watching Chernobyl - about the nuclear power disaster. It’s excellent but relentlessly grim so, as the antidote, I’ve been watching at least an hour of Friends most evenings.
And this week I did another kind of watching…
Anyone who follows me on Instagram knows that I look out my own window a lot - and now, it turns out I can look out of other people’s windows! My friend Lex sent me this link which allows you to look out of other people’s windows. It’s mesmerising! You can just sit and watch snow falling in Moscow, the sea shimmering in Malibu, traffic in Leon, cloudy skies in South Korea...
Also, if a virtual trip to South Korea doesn’t do it for you - here are some dancing nuns strutting their stuff to cheer people up. God bless them and their joyous shaking hips!
WHAT I’M READING
Kae Tempest’s On Connection. It’s about how we connect with each other through music, art and just paying attention to each other and the smaller moments in life. I loved it. I am reading it alongside John O’ Donohue and there are a lot of similarities. Deep, beautiful souls, the two of them.
I also read Austin Kleon’s Show your Work and Keep Going. I could not recommend them more. They are short, sweet, inspiring and wise books on the creative process. His newsletter is great too.
Moving forward, I’ll be keeping a list of all the books I’ve mentioned in this newsletter in one place. If you ever want to look back, you can access my reading list here or by clicking the button below. Buying from Bookshop.org helps independent bookshops.
Oliver Burkekamn’s newsletter - The Imperfectionist is also good. I used to read his Saturday column every week in The Guardian and now he is taking similar psychology / life content and putting it in a fortnightly newsletter. The one he sent yesterday was about the fallacy of us ever getting to the point where we feel sorted and life is problem-free. Spoiler alert: it never happens!! We might have moments when it feels like it is and then it goes to sh*t again! As Pema Chodron puts it: things come together and then they fall apart again. I find this comforting. There is no place that we have to get to. No finish line. Just keep muddling on!
On which note, this article made me feel much better. It’s on why writing has been difficult for some of us this year.
Also, this was interesting in Grazia. It’s about the social anxiety that is springing up at the thought of socialising again.
This Saturday’s Writing for Fun and Sanity will be the last one in a little while. I am taking a break to recharge and plan new sessions with friends. We will be back! Let’s make tomorrow a fun one.
Ok, that’s it for now - inspired by last week’s newsletter on having nothing to say, I’ll leave you with this New Yorker cartoon. The caption features a woman on the phone saying: ‘Did I tell you about the really big pigeon I saw? I did? Sorry, I ran out of new things to talk about months ago.’
Love Mxxx
I Don't Want A Social Life