20 Learnings From 2020
A year ago today, as we welcomed in 2020, the start of a new decade seemed full of glittering promise; but it’s safe to say that the realities of the past twelve months couldn’t be further from that initial expectation.
Though used to the point of exhaustion, the word unprecedented really does encapsulate the times that we have endured, often feeling more like a poorly written, budget horror film, than history in the making.
When the pandemic first struck the UK in March, no-one quite anticipated just how long the effects of coronavirus would linger. Most of us assumed that life would be momentarily put on pause, previous normality resumed in just a number of weeks. But, nine months on, and little has changed in our external circumstances beyond the seasons. Though for most of us, the day-to-day has been far slower and simpler than we are used to, time has somehow run away at a blistering speed.
There’s no denying that, at a glance, 2020 appears something of a nightmare — seething with relentless loss, despair, fear and anger; a year we are so desperate to sweep under the carpet and pretend never happened. But that being said, I don’t see this year as a write-off.
Though it’s been an uncomfortable journey, I can’t deny all of the invaluable life-lessons that I otherwise might not have learned were it not for this global pandemic. The stillness and slower pace of this time has enabled a level of introspection and reflection that I’ve previously been too preoccupied and busied to access. From discomfort comes growth, and this year has cast light on important truths we might not have seen had it not been for the darkness.
As we move towards the fizzing potential of a new year and the steady recovery of our society, I’d like to reflect upon twenty of the learnings that I endeavour to take forward with me, as we leave 2020 behind…
1) Expect the unexpected.
Sorting through my email inbox, I stumbled across a load of email exchanges from just days before our country first went into lockdown; plans I was working so hard to put in place, rendered completely irrelevant by an event I could never have planned for.
At the time, I was completely consumed by the potential of these future plans, the trajectory of my life seemingly wound up in a string of email exchanges. But nearly a year later, and these potential plans couldn’t be further from the reality I find myself in.
Finding these old emails served as an important reminder to expect the unexpected; to surrender control and sometimes accept the unpredictability of life; to take life with a pinch of salt, and remember that time will pass, situations will change and life may take us in an unforeseen direction.
2) How lucky we are to live in a free country.
You don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone. - Joni Mitchell, Big Yellow Taxi
This year, the UK Government have had to implement parameters and restrictions around our freedoms — something that most of us have never experienced before. Though obviously put in place for our own safety, these regulations have influenced the shape of our days, our careers, our relationships and our movements. Though the effectiveness of our government’s strategy has been questionable, and the rules have caused distress for many, these limitations have been temporary, reasonably mild, and arguably with our best interests at heart. For many countries around the world living under tyranny and dictatorship, however, restrictions far more severe, suppressive and destructive are simply normality.
This year, we have had a taste of curtailed freedom, and we have not liked it; hence, when the need for government intervention eventually lessens, the ability to decide the way we lead our lives — to travel freely, meet friends or throw a party at will — is not to be taken for granted, for such seemingly simple liberties are not so simple for many people across the world.
3) Being a slob is only fun for so long.
Very early on during lockdown, I had begun to relish the abandonment of all my previous grooming habits: my eyebrows spread further and further across my forehead, my shampoo bottle lay neglected in the shower, and I rotated between an attire of tracksuit paints, lycra leggings and little else; seeing only my family and the staff at Sainsbury’s, I felt little motivation to make an effort with my appearance. My once cherished wardrobe gathered dust along with my sense of self care and respect, a pair of earrings for a zoom call the greatest stretch I would make.
This state of being persisted for a regrettably long time, until I started to miss my former appearance. I craved an occasion to get dressed up for, a reason to wash my hair and wear trousers that didn’t stretch, an opportunity to feel good in my skin again.
Having never had the chance to revel in such slobbery before, lockdown posed the perfect opportunity to try it out; but I’ve come to learn it’s not as fun as it seems. The odd pyjama day works wonders, but when that time spills over into months it really loses its novelty.
Investing a little effort in my appearance has a great impact on both my sense of worth, and ability to take on the day; for if there is little distinguishing my sleeping attire from the rest, the day will just continue to roll by in a state of slumberous lethargy.
4) The value of a hug.
Before the pandemic, the act of hugging had become so commonplace, it had almost lost its value. With handshakes and cheek-kissing rendered passé and inappropriately formal, hugs had become the expected greeting for our generation — between strangers and best friends alike.
The real transference of energy and feeling behind a hug was becoming increasingly rare, superseded by the empty, one-arm, pat-on-the-back kind instead. We had lost touch with the real intention behind a hug, flippantly pressing our bodies up against strangers’ for lack of a better way to break the ice.
But weeks into new social distancing regulations – with what felt like great canyons of space separating us all — the impact that the absence of physical contact was having on me became noticeable. As time tumbled on, my personal bubble became a progressively hostile and lonely environment. I noticed that the lack of touch between myself and those that I loved was also resulting in a loss of my ability to empathise and connect. I was in need of a warm hand on my shoulder, or the soft envelopment of another body, to defrost my inner supplies of compassion and kindness.
I came to realise that the language of touch has unique abilities to connect us, in a way that words cannot. The sharing of a true embrace — the two-armed, hearts-pressed-together kind — serves a purpose essential to humankind’s ability to function.
This time has reset my hugging habits; now, I will be more selective with whom I choose to share such close physical contact, but when I do, it will be with all of the sentiment, intent, warmth and meaning that a hug should really have.
5) The UK is a great place to holiday.
With our ability to travel over summer greatly reduced, many of us were forced to rethink our holiday plans. Journeying abroad became such a hassle, negotiating quarantines and closed borders, that most people decided to opt for a staycation instead — a term that has become so ubiquitous, that it has earned a place in the Oxford Dictionary this year. The beaches of Mallorca were traded for the beaches of Cornwall, with a desperate scrabble online to find any remaining rooms or properties that weren’t already fully booked.
It was as if the blindfold was finally ripped from our eyes, and we saw the UK in a brand new light: a place rich with the potential for adventure, exploration and pleasure. We came to a collective recognition that we don’t necessarily need to board a plane and splurge the cash to get our fix of ice-cream cones, sunset views and escapism. It’s closer to home than we think.
6) The pleasure of going for a walk (even when it’s not Boxing Day).
We have become a nation of walkers. As we’ve had to move our socialising outdoors, walking with friends has become a new routine for many, with people young and old taking to the green spaces around us come rain or shine.
Having previously seen walking as something purely functional — to take me from A to B — I too have found myself on sprawling treks lasting hours. I’ve become somewhat addicted to it, the soul-satisfying combination of immersion in nature and the company of friends.
Going on walks has given structure and purpose to the long stretches of day; time outdoors has served as a well-needed reminder that life exists beyond the confines of our homes, and provided the sunshine and fresh-air essential to maintaining our inner equilibrium in a time of unbalance.
When hospitality venues reopen and we are given the option of resuming our former ways of socialising, there is no doubt that my friends and I will continue walking together. It has been a refreshing change to the constant wining and dining that came before, a way of being together that doesn’t need to cost a penny. What’s more, the act of journeying together has enabled conversations to take a far more interesting course than it would over a slice of cake — and our bodies feel much better for it too.
7) Productivity can take many different forms.
With furlough and redundancies removing the usual channels for our productivity, we were left with the question of how to put our time to “good use”, how to attain a sense of fulfilment and gratification from each day.
As with many people, I naturally diverted my energy and focus into different personal projects and hobbies, finding that they could satisfy the hunger for a sense of purpose that the loss of work had left behind, but in a gentler, less demanding fashion.
Cooking a new recipe, completing a crossword, reading a book or having a long phone call with a friend no longer feel like side-notes or indulgences, but enough to make a day feel sufficiently, productively well-spent. Productivity needn’t be arduous, quantifiable or validated by external measures, but measured by our internal satisfaction and pleasure - for what’s the point of life other than to enjoy it?
8) Homemade bread is the way forward.
It’s actually not that difficult. And it tastes so much better than Hovis.
9) How quickly humans can adapt.
The reality we live in now, and the adjustments that we have made, would have been completely unimaginable to our 2019 selves. However this time has shown us that when circumstances demand change, our human instinct allows us to adapt easily in order to survive.
Now, when watching a movie, I even find myself shocked at the close physical proximity of characters, a nightclub setting, or the absence of face masks - proof of how quickly and completely I have grown accustomed to the new post-pandemic norms.
10) Take advantage of every celebration.
The cancellation of almost all of our national festivals this year has highlighted just how much shape, structure and colour they give to our existence.
As the 5th of November passed us by this year, I felt a mourning: for the hot, sugar-drenched doughnuts, obligatory fairground rides and communal ‘ooh-ing’ and ‘aah-ing’ as fireworks light up the sky.
Alongside religious celebrations such as Diwali, Eid and Passover, even the consumer traps such as Halloween have been missed — all of them an annual excuse to come together and celebrate life, to fill it with light, noise, decoration and merrymaking.
No longer will I turn my nose up at an occasion, or let it slip by unnoticed; instead I will revel in each and every opportunity for collective celebration and marking of tradition, for this year has shown us that life without it all is decidedly less vibrant.
11) Phone calls over zoom calls any day.
The word ‘zoom’ has taken on a whole new meaning this year. The new software spread like wildfire across the world, an answer to all of our communication needs — work meetings, yoga classes, book clubs, pub quizzes and family reunions. At first we swooned at the novelty of it all: the ability to mute other participants, share your music, ‘beautify’ your appearance, make a grand entrance with the doorbell sound effect and nosey into hundreds of people’s living rooms across the globe.
Most of us found we were spending the majority of our day held captive in a little square box, zooming here, there and everywhere, navigating a host of technological mishaps and struggling to know where to look at the screen in order to replicate eye contact. The self-awareness brought on by seeing your own image all the time was exhausting. So it wasn’t surprising when we all began to develop ‘Zoom fatigue’.
Though I’m grateful for all that Zoom has facilitated during this time, I’m glad we’ve all come to remember that a simple phone-call does the job perfectly well, if not better. Each person can focus fully on the other without the distraction of their own appearance, conversation can bounce back and forth more naturally, we’re not stuck sitting formally at a desk staring at our screens, and the conversation isn’t brought to a painfully abrupt finish when the forty minute time limit is up.
12) The government massively undervalue the Arts & Culture sector.
The Earth without Art is just “eh” - Demetri Martin
The lack of funding and support given by the UK government to those in the Arts and Culture sector has made this country’s attitude towards the creative industries frightfully clear. Surprising — for a nation whose cultural scene is one of the most highly regarded and sought after in the world — that its leaders aren’t more concerned about the irreversible damage that is being done to it.
Meanwhile, we have never been more aware of the value that Arts and Culture bring to our society. Our lives have looked noticeably less colourful in their absence, the buzz of a live performance simply irreplaceable.
But with the disregard shown by the government to the UK’s artists, performers, theatre staff and creative venues, the path to recovery for this industry isn’t going to be easy.
The skills, training, commitment and perseverance that these professions require is arguably more demanding than most, so to suggest that creatives should simply pack it in and rethink their career paths, is utterly mindless.
No, Fatima, your next career should not be in cyber; keep those ballet shoes firmly on your feet — we need you.
13) Pub quizzes are called pub quizzes for a reason.
14) The world isn’t so big after all.
The spread of coronavirus has made the theory of six degrees of separation — contending that we are just six acquaintances away from any other person on the planet — pretty plausible indeed.
But it has taken this pandemic to make me appreciate how interconnected our world is today. The unification of our realities has made the map feel substantially smaller, with only two countries — Turkmenistan and North Korea — claiming to have zero coronavirus cases. It’s created a strange sense of global solidarity that I’ve never experienced before, with all of us tied together by a shared, invisible enemy and fighting for the same cause.
15) “Who run the world? Girls.”
Beyonce was right. According to the Centre for Economic Policy Research and the World Economic Forum, countries led by women had “systematically and significantly better” results related to Covid-19.
But beyond coronavirus, 2020 has seen swathes of political and social progression led by women: from Angela Merkel’s willingness to house thousands of stranded refugees in Germany, to Nicola Sturgeon and Monica Lennon making Scotland the first country in the world with free sanitary products; Jacinda Adern for her exemplary handling of coronavirus in New Zealand, and for her selection of the most diverse cabinet the country has ever seen; Sanna Marin’s support of the Trans community and dismantling of archaic gender norms; and Kamala Harris in being the first Black person, first woman and first person of Indian-American decent to ever become Vice President of the US.
It’s the empathy, compassion, nurturing and understanding that comes so innately to these women that is what the world needs to heal. We need to be led by a demographic who know what it’s like to have to fight for their rights, to be heard and treated equally; who understand better the experiences of society’s most sidelined communities, and feel more compelled to help alleviate that discomfort and frustrations, as they have experienced it themselves to some degree.
To see change on ground level, we need to see a change in our leaders — and an injection of female faces seems to be working an absolute treat.
16) The value of home.
I’ve spent more time at home this year than the rest of my years combined. Previously a place where I would spend merely the fringes of my days, home has become the backdrop for my entire existence. I’ve come to know the subtlest of ink stains on the carpet, scratches in the wall paint and creaks in the floorboards. The four walls in which I live have morphed into a microcosm of the outer world.
But, with that, has come a new appreciation and gratitude for this space. I now recognise how fortunate I am to have a place to call home — somewhere that offers safety, shelter, protection and comfort, a place that I can flee to in times like these.
17) The power of nature.
In a time rife with anxiety, taking to nature has been my most reliable antidote — its ability to heal never having felt so tangible. When our minds unravel into fears of the future, it takes only the dappling of sunlight through the trees or a melodic verse of birdsong to help reel it back to the present. Watching the seasons change has served as a reminder of the impermanence of things, and of the situation we find ourselves in.
Spending time in nature has surpassed any man-made coping strategy I’ve come across; rather than analysis and answers, sometimes what we really need is silence.
18) Silence is complicity.
One of the fundamental messages of the Black Lives Matter protests was that, as white people, we all need to recognise and acknowledge the role we play in a racist society. To cultivate change, we all need to use our voices and speak up, even if that means we have to admit to our lack of knowledge, to our privileges and to our mistakes.
Having initially been afraid to join in the social media conversation for fear of offending or saying the wrong thing, I’ve come to learn that to stay silent is as damaging as the alternative. To witness racism, and not use my powers to spread awareness of it, is an act borne of privilege and ignorance.
As Catherine Ayani explained:
Acknowledge that you have questions and that you're seeing people in pain. The worst thing that you can do is ignore the pain because you're perpetuating it at that point. When you see someone on fire and you look the other way because it makes you uncomfortable, you are complicit in that person being on fire and that fire spreading.
19) Heroes don’t always wear capes.
More likely scrubs. Or kitchen hair nets. Or white lab coats. Or plastic visors. Or maybe they walk with a zimmer-frame.
20) Time is precious.
Mostly it is loss which teaches us the worth of things - Arthur Schopenhauer
Though our days have been considerably less busy than we are used to, 2020 has somehow passed by in a blink. The news of death all around us has served as a constant reminder of how fleeting and fragile life is, the unpredictability of the virus and its victims driving us to make the most of the time we have together, to appreciate all that we have.