It’s amazing how during a lockdown, one’s sense of achievement totally changes.  It’s all about scale, or perspective really.  I knew a big storm was coming today so I took Sunny out for a creek swim, what I call ‘cheaters walk’ since I don’t have to do anything and she gets lots of exercise because she just swims around and around in circles for ages until I walk away.  I’ve been taking her on some epic bike rides these past few days, partially to test her endurance, and also because the mornings were so sunny and humid it was lovely to have a mini mission to embark upon in the morning, and then in the afternoon I would sit down and try and do some work, to limited success.  If I’m deeply engaged in a piece, like I was last week that had a firm deadline for publication, I can get the work done.  But if it’s a bit airy fairy I don’t seem to be able to sit and write like I did for the past 4 years on my thesis. Also to varying degrees of success.  What I learnt during that time was not to push it, that if the time and mood were right, the words would eventually come.  “like a stone, it too will pass’ was one of my many favourite PhD aphorisms.  Now that I have released myself from any expectation that this is ‘an historians’ take on the virus, and is now just as much a personal blog, I can let go and find the space in the day when it feels right to write.

I have been listening to a lot of radio, as I always do, and the talk is now about how to ‘come back to normalcy’, if not in a very cautious ‘we don’t want to fuck this up’ kind of way.  China claimed yesterday that they released their last Covid patient from hospital, which somehow I can’t really believe.  I guess that is the whole paradox of this situation, how do we really know the extent of this virus when the information is being controlled by politics.  Much like Chernobyl, which I watched the TV series of last year, I was shocked to realise that of course the Russians didn’t want to admit to the world, or to their dying brand of dictatorship, that the disaster was as bad as it was? For days they believed it wasn’t possible, and then when it became clear, as the hero of the story tries to tell those in power, they tried to hide it from the rest of the world, (nee Germany) for a few more days until they could feel more in control of the situation.  I can imagine that the internal politics going on in China right now would be something similar.  It’s all about control, power and authority, over their international position, and internal.  It seems unlikely given the density of population that it hasn’t spread further, and China, like many developing nations, just don’t have the ability to test widely, and moreover, many people may be dying quietly at home, or they write it off.  There will be films for generations about this once the whole story comes out.  Today I listened to an ABC show on Wet Markets, and the debate was whether the international community has any say in controlling how those countries, namely China, Indonesia and half of Asia and the middle east, process their meat.  One guy came on and said 4 out of the last 6 major pandemics have come through these markets, and Australia is throwing its weight around by claiming they want to do a full inquiry into it.  There’s a lot of Chinaphobia contained in these ideas though.

It’s amazing how even small markers can signify the passing of time. Tonight, is bin night, and I only realised because I saw the neighbors bins out, not because I knew it was Tuesday.   I’ve noticed that this blog is the only reason I take notice of the date, or day for that matter.  It’s a bit ‘Groundhog Day’ and I reckon they need to re-visit that film with a new Covid theme.  Routine is a part of life, and for many of us our routines are not always personal.  I used to have a regular meet-up at my local bar with friends, and now I wonder what is happening to them, and the bar.  I would also go to my local farmers market, and then the pools.  Compared to most my world is quite local, and now I find that even an excuse to go get chicken feed today, turns into a mini mission to get to the shops, and pick up some pots I found on Gumtree.  A real 'outing'

I have noticed how much we are talking about and paying attention to the weather, and the changing seasons.  We are lucky down here to be able to have a noticeable autumn, with sunny days, and cooler mornings.  Tomorrow there’s a BIG storm a brewing, and while they say Melbournians are ‘bracing’ for torrential rain, hail and flash flooding, I reckon most of us will already be inside.  All it will affect is when we get to walk our dogs at the park.  With less to talk about and observe, and people generally fed up with hearing, watching and reading about the pandemic, (plus there's no footy which would occupy alot of our time right now), it's back to the weather.

There’s been a few minor changes happening within our immediate nature also, since we’re not moving around so much we can really hear the birdsong.  Ive also noticed big gangs of parrots and Corellas hanging around, when I wonder if they would normally be here this late in summer?  The noise overhead of a plane can be quite alarming, much like people in remote areas when the odd one occasionally flies over.  Not a whole lot else has changed, but for some reason it feels more calm, maybe that’s because the panic that was raised and fueled in the early weeks has settled and we’ve all accepted this is the reality, for good and for bad.  My family is still largely ensconced down at the beach house, and from all reports are perfectly happy there.  There will be a return to normalcy, but what that normal looks like will be another version of this, same same but just a little bit different.

I’ve stopped writing this blog daily, and I'm trying not to give myself a hard time about it.  I have realised my routine has settled a bit now that I'm back home, and I have been working and writing during the day but still, I need to re-align my view on this project as not just a daily ritual, and an exercise in social and historical observation, but a lesson in creativity. 



Many years ago, I tried doing a section of The Artists Way, which is a whole 12-week artists training regimen that is supposed to help you move through creative blocks.  From memory, I didn’t see myself as a ‘struggling creative’ at the time, so I remember not really taking on a whole lot of the commentary and life-goal mantras, basically I was there to do the ‘morning pages’ and maybe learn some discipline.  The morning pages comprised a 45 min free-writing exercise every day, as soon as you woke up.  It meant adjusting your morning schedule to accommodate 45 minutes of writing, but un-training yourself from the idea that writing had to conform to regulations of punctuation and narrative.  

I have kept a diary since I was 12 and found the Artists Way was a helpful exercise in changing the way I wrote, to and for myself.  It was liberating, because the idea was that after the 45minutes you closed the book and never looked at it again.  It wasn’t about the outcome, but the process.  It was about freeing the brain from the regimentation our work/life puts on us, and/or our expectations of our productivity, and finding a certain freedom of expression with the page.  There was no editing or changing the words once they were down.  Just move on. At the end of the 12 weeks you can extend the ritualistic aspects of the process and go outside and ceremoniously burn the pages, but I never did that.  It is there, in my pile of journals, somewhere, waiting one day for me to open it.  That is my tentativeness with following orders, and also my inability to let go of stuff I produce.  I'm wondering if this blog is the same, am I slacking off on my daily entries because I question my ability to critically observe the wider social and political changes, or am I just moving through another phase?? I know there is definitely a difference in scrawling all over a page for 45 minutes, though you’re not meant to stop, think or compose, just write.  You’re not meant to take the pen off the page, and I think that adds to the ritualised nature of the exercise.  This is another exercise entirely. 

Maybe my current ambivalence is representative of a broader malaise, or maybe I'm now wondering what it is I'm actually doing? Is it for me, or for the reader? Is it a document that charts the progress of a pandemic, or is it a more personal journey through this pandemic?  There’s no reason why it can’t be both, or either, or change its course at any point.  I guess that’s the point of creativity, it knows no bounds and isn’t meant to be bound, that’s why it is an intimate production of the self.  Like all of the fluctuating thoughts and emotions we find ourselves passing through, that’s ok too.

Another milestone, my nephew turns 21 today and as my sister quipped yesterday, ‘what do you mean you wouldn’t want to be isolated and spending your 21st with your rents n sibs?’.  It just is.  And so many events will go unheralded during these strange time, celebrated as they would normally do surrounded by friends and family. I feel for the young’uns, at least I have had my time of freedom, it must be harder for them to be able to say with maturity, it’s ok. I can give it all up for the greater cause.  I guess that’s where a lot of the anger lies at the idea that not all of us are doing the same.  Should we feel uneasy when we meet up with friends under the device of ‘going for a walk’ or ‘doing exercise’?  I watched a movie last night and all I could think about when watching some of the dancing scenes was ‘how odd, they’re touching!’ Isn’t that wild?  That it’s only been a few weeks and already we can see the time before, and the time now as two distinct moments. 

I wanted to re-produce a post my friend put up the other day showing the multiplicity of emotional responses to this moment. I thought it especially poignant as an explainer for the many possible reactions we could each be having now, and why it is important not to give ourselves a harder time than we need to.

1. You’re burned out.
Think about it: Every aspect of adjusting to a “new normal” demands energy from you, whether that’s the bandwidth you’re expending keeping up on the news or the weird learning curve of doing your job remotely. Meanwhile, so many of the ways we typically recharge are off the table right now: seeing friends, hitting up happy hour, going to the gym, or whatever self-care activity of yours that the pandemic has derailed. “There are so many more things draining us than things fortifying us right now,” says Howes. “That’s a recipe for burnout right there.”
2. You’re angry.
You probably don’t need me to tell you that there are a lot of things to be angry about right now, whether you’re frustrated at people who aren’t taking this seriously enough or have a lot of feelings about how the pandemic is being handled on a structural level.
3. You’re…surprisingly calm.
With all this focus on looking after your mental health and coping with anxiety during the pandemic, it might feel weird to be doing, well, pretty okay. But according to multiple therapists I talked to, a sense of calm is a pretty common reaction. It might be out of avoidance or because the new coronavirus feels “out of sight, out of mind,” but it could also be a direct sign that you’re more equipped to deal with all this than you thought.
Similarly, your past experiences might have trained you to act calm in crisis. “Some of my clients are actually feeling an unexpected sense of ‘calm’ amid the chaos, which can sometimes be the result of adverse childhood experiences where clients have become accustomed to unstable environments,” Siobhan D. Flowers, Ph.D., tells SELF.
4. You’re spiralling about what might happen.
The uncertainty of the pandemic—and the long-term impact it will have on both a personal level and a larger scale—is one of the most common themes the therapists I talked to have come across in their work. That should come as no surprise to anyone going through a ton of anxiety right now; there is just so much we can’t predict.
“Anxiety rises due to the fear of the unknown, and right now, many things are not known,” Myisha Jackson, L.P.C., tells SELF. “I have been hearing people worrying about running out of food or supplies. People are afraid that they will lose their homes or cars due to being out of work.” The list goes on. The important part to remember is that most people are grappling with uncertainty right now, and it’s normal to feel terrified.
5. You’re struggling with working from home.
If your employer is piling on more work and meetings, leaving your work-life balance in the toilet, you’re not alone. Transitioning from a typical work setup to working from home has caused a lot of stress, angst, and frustration for a ton of people.
“Clients are tethered to their computers now more than ever, listening out for the ‘pings’ from email notifications and hurriedly responding to every inquiry, request, or assignment,” Gena Golden, L.C.S.W., tells SELF. “Some have noted fear and anxiety about taking breaks for lunch or restroom breaks for fear that their supervisor will reach out to them and they will not be there to respond within minutes.”
6. You’re mourning cancelled events.
There’s no denying that the pandemic completely disrupted life as we know it, forcing a lot of people to miss out on experiences they’d been looking forward to for a long time. “Clients are mourning their important events such as birthdays, upcoming retirement, cancelled wedding plans, and their children’s graduation,” says Erinna.
Same goes for important career events, proms, vacations, anniversaries, or anything that the new coronavirus has demolished in its path. A lot of people feel guilty for caring when these things can seem small in comparison to many other consequences of COVID-19, but don’t beat yourself up. It’s totally natural to be sad, angry, annoyed, and disappointed, no matter what else is going on.
7. You’re yo-yoing between hopefulness and hopelessness.
In the era of COVID-19, each new day can feel like a whole week because of how many updates, statistics, and stories there are to take in. A lot of people are getting some emotional whiplash, says Howes: “People are wondering, ‘Should I feel good or should I feel bad? Do I feel hopeful or hopeless?’”
There’s obviously no right answer—it’s natural to feel a bunch of things at once or in cycles, especially when so much is going on. But now might be a good time to remind you that staying super plugged in to the news can exacerbate this response (and a lot of other things on this list, at that), so maybe consider going easy on yourself and cutting back on your news consumption.
8. You’re craving a freaking hug, damn it.
If you feel this way, nope, you’re not the only one going out of your skin from lack of physical contact. Bianca Walker, L.P.C., tells SELF she’s hearing a lot from her clients about the importance of touch. “Yes, we can Zoom and Facetime, but there is something to be said for hugs and kisses, and even just being in close proximity to a person,” she says. “We are witnessing the importance of community and the power of…physical interaction in its absence.”
9. You’re stuck and unsure.
In a lot of ways, the pandemic is forcing us to stay frozen in time. If you had to hit pause on some aspect of your life—whether that was a job hunt, a new relationship, or a long-term goal—you might be wondering what the hell you’re supposed to do now. Even if the pandemic didn’t disrupt anything major, future planning can still feel off the table.
“Many of us are wanting to plan our summer, birthdays, weddings, et cetera, but feel stuck in not knowing what is to come,” Vernessa Roberts, L.M.F.T., tells SELF. “It creates this dreadful feeling of having nothing to look forward to because we are uncertain of what is coming.”
10. You’re guilty about your relative safety, security, or privilege.
Many therapists are hearing from people who are guilt-ridden about how their experiences and concerns compare to those who are more vulnerable to the negative impacts of the pandemic. “[I’ve seen] survivor’s guilt for those who have means and work roles that allow them to work remotely while family members, friends, or even folks they see on the news cannot,” Cicely Horsham-Brathwaite, Ph.D., tells SELF.
It’s natural for the things you’re grateful for—such as financial stability, the company of family or partners during isolation, or good health that makes you less at risk for serious complications—to be shadowed by an awareness that not everyone is in a similar position. Don’t beat yourself up for what you do have, and maybe ask yourself if you’re in a position to help others (which might have the added bonus of making you feel better too).
11. You’re deep in some existential regret.
A large-scale crisis like this naturally brings to the forefront some larger questions that might have you thinking about your past choices, experiences, and values. “[Some people] are examining how they may have ‘wasted’ their time suffering or ruminating over things that now have little value,” says Golden. That said, Golden is also seeing this have a positive side effect: “They are beginning to see new meaning in relationship bonds, social connection, family, and health,” she says.
12. You’re grieving.
And not necessarily in the traditional sense. While it’s true some people undoubtedly are dealing with the loss of loved ones to COVID-19, therapists are noticing grief in other ways too. Most people are grappling with some kind of loss, Howes says, whether that’s the loss of a job, your freedom, your feeling of safety, or your vision of how your life should be going. All of that can trigger a deep sense of grief, though many people don’t recognize it for what it is.
There’s also a chance you’re grieving lives lost on a larger scale, even if you don’t know anyone personally. This can be true for anyone, but especially those in communities especially affected by COVID-19.
13. You’re feeling inadequate about your productivity.
“One issue that I’m seeing is people feeling guilt about not being productive enough while at home in isolation,” Kaity Rodriguez, L.C.S.W., tells SELF. “From day one after lockdown orders, many clients felt that they were wasting time and failing miserably at the transition to working from home. There is also pressure to learn languages, take courses, master finances, and do all the things. Productivity porn is very loud right now.”
That noise can be difficult to drown out, so don’t feel bad if this is something you’re struggling with. “We live in a nation in which many of us are accustomed to engaging in activities centered around thriving,” says Rodriguez. “Unfortunately, much of that focus must be shifted to surviving right now. Be kind to yourself as we shift and refuse to be guilty for not being productive.”
14. You’re in over your head with your kids.
With schools shutting down and services like daycare out of commission, a lot of parents are struggling with the transition of having their kids at home full-time, especially if they still have to work. Not only does this situation come with a ton of added stress on a practical level, but there’s a good chance your emotions about it are hard to ignore too. “They feel as if they are not doing enough and are failing their kids and jobs as they are unable to balance it all,” Kimberly Lee-Okonya, L.C.S.W., tells SELF.
15. You’re dealing with a resurgence of unrelated past trauma.
If you find yourself suddenly consumed with thoughts and feelings about something from your past, you might feel caught off guard. But that’s actually our brains functioning as designed, Ryan M. Sheade, L.C.S.W., tells SELF. “Because our brains, and especially our fight-or-flight response, are set to remind us of danger in order to keep us safe, the pandemic is bringing everyone’s past traumas to the forefront.”
And as a reminder, this could apply to any number of experiences from the past, whether or not you consider it trauma. “Everyone has trauma, whether a big-T trauma of a single traumatic incident or the little-t traumas of consistent reminders in childhood that we weren’t good enough, or worthy of love, or that we were insignificant or unimportant,” says Sheade. So whatever is coming up for you right now, treat yourself with compassion.
16. You’re numb.
With everything going on, it might alarm you to wake up one day and realize you feel…nothing at all. That’s to be expected too. Even in the most chaotic of times, it’s impossible to be on emotional high alert 24/7. “I think of it in terms of adrenaline,” says Howes. “You can only have adrenaline coursing through your veins for so long until the body has to reset and simmer down.” Same goes for emotions, especially the longer this goes on.
 
 
 
 
 
17. You’re feeling something else entirely.
Truth be told, this list is only the tip of the iceberg of what therapists are hearing right now—and by extension, what people are feeling. If I covered it all, this article would be 10 times this length, minimum. From depression to boredom to intimacy to inadequacy to excitement, people are going through the whole spectrum of emotions right now. The point is, no matter what you feel each day, it is a valid response to this truly wild experience we’re all living through.
“It is important to understand that we are all dealing with this as a unit, but this unit is impacted in different ways,” says Roberts. “Remember that the impact this has on you is still valid and real. How you choose to spend this time is up to you and cannot be compared to how others are spending this time. May we remember to embrace our own feelings and struggles and show compassion for the feelings and struggles of others.”
 
I wrested with this last one this morning as I lay in bed doing my normal morning ‘ponder’.  How is everyone else doing and what should I be doing right now? I guess the answer is to just be. And take it day by day.

Today was amusing.  The first day of my 5 day ‘strict stay at home’ regimen so I can prove to my family that I am still Corona-free and go down to my family’s beach house for Passover in a week’s time.  That’s my plan anyways, but who knows whether the fines the cops are handing out for non-essential travel will start working as a disincentive to driving.  It’s a bit weird though, wondering what ‘essential’ things other people are doing.  Is one person’s work anothers' leisurely walk? 

I’ve started hearing about people dobbing in other people who were meant to be quarantining but go caught out down at the local Target.  The cops get called.  I wonder how they feel about being community police suddenly.  Is this as serious as we’re made to believe.  I understand the concept, but I also understand what coercive control means, and looks like.  I read an article the other day that filled me with dread, for the women stuck at home in abusive relationships. 


Quarantining at home is fine when it’s all play dates, home-schooling and frozen artisan bread.  But not when home is dangerous, drug filled and angry.  Not when it’s depressed and anxious but has no way of talking or dealing with it.  Not when it doesn’t understand, for the 10th time, why their hours had to be cut instead of that cunt who’d only been there a few months?  It would be horrible to not feel safe at home, and the longer this goes on the more women will no doubt suffer from it. 


A good friend has also been writing a blog and his particular cause ‘de-non-celebre' is pokies, and he’s chuffed they’ve all been closed down for the foreseeable future, but much like the roll on effects on small newspapers due to advertising losses, what losses will the community feel once all that gaming revenue is removed.  What won’t our valiant Premier be able to support without Pokies money?  it’s a refreshing future to be sure to eliminate that absolute waste of time and money, but still the society has grown up with that cash, and it ain’t being cut from the Police or infrastructure projects.

Missed a day, trying to deal with my anxiety while Sunny was getting her surgery took me away from computer life.  I baked, I prepped, I shopped, I mowed. All distraction tools, I think.  April Fool’s day seemed like an inappropriate and inauspicious day to get my dog’s major surgery.

Two weeks into this State of Emergency (though pointedly in the media we have not engaged a national state of emergency which would come with another level of unregulated power).  


I forgot my train of thought and its now two days later. I had to burn back from Castlemaine to Melbourne so I could take my dog in for desexing surgery which happened today.  We’re all good and she’s lying next to me wearing the cone of shame and feeling very sorry for herself as she’s just had her lady bits removed and come out of general anesthetic Poor darling.  I guess that’s the bonus of the times, I can be with her for the next week non-stop and give her the reassurance she needs. I feel terrible as she was being so cute in the week leading up to this and it’s been pretty confusing for all dogs it seems with this change in pattern.  I met up with a friend the other day to walk to dogs together and she said the same thing.  Her dog had noticed the mood had shifted in her house, and more people were home more of the time, and with that they had become more cuddly and staying close.  I wonder if it is the tone of our voice they can detect, even when we’re not talking to them, or whether it’s just their sense of the shifting times.  My friend Az encouraged me at the beginning of this blog to write from my dogs' perspective.  I guess it would go something like this 



Sunny: Day 7 
I've decided there’s a big game of footy or party going on somewhere and we’re just not invited.  I’ve been wondering where my friends are, and my mum and aunty pip, who I usually see every day.  I can’t smell them, and there seems to be less action on the streets.  I guess Ill sniff my bum again and wait to see if we can go somewhere exciting today. I wonder what happens here, I think I’ve been to this building before where they keep giving me liver treats and make me stand on a big cold steel table... 



Scintillating writing right there.  I guess that sort of creative work is beyond me right now, Although I am loving the contributions being made across all the arts, music, dance, puppetry, fashion, dress ups, comedy, it seems like a fertile time and with a good topic, but not much rhymes with Covid it seems.  Sammy J’s rendition of the Ballad of the Dunny Roll was spot on, the Day Australia Shat itself, but I wonder if we’ll still be making jokes in 3 months, when it’s deep dark winter and we’re still in lockdown, and there’s still no jobs, and the rent has gone up and the government has run out of money to keep chucking at it.  I wonder then what resources we will call on.  How much humour will we find then ? 

I had another nightmare last night, I think, but not as bad as the one the other night.  I dreamt I kept losing my dog and finally she ran off in a snowstorm and I was panicked trying to call her back.  She is going in for de-sexing surgery on Wednesday which is at the root of this particular anxiety, but I think like many others I've spoken to in recent days, it’s a common response to pervading stress.  If nowhere else in our new daily regimen, the uncertainty and fear that is becoming our everyday norm needs somewhere to come out.  I'm sure those of us more adept at meditation and yoga would find those routines soothing right now.  I'm just trying to exercise daily, and swim in the reservoir up here if I can before I have to go back to the city for Sunny’s surgery. 

I just spoke to my mum who is happily ensconced in the bosom of family down at our beach house, and although the stress is palpable there they are a family that knows the importance of talking things out, no matter the pain.  I do and don’t miss being with family at this time.  I’ve been fairly separate yet quite involved in that family for the past few years but have lent on them tremendously during the peak stress periods of my thesis.  I feel that it is time to reclaim myself from that sphere, and I know I am, now that the evictions moratorium is being enacted across the country, relatively safe in my home even if we struggle financially to pay the rent.  That has been the most interesting eye opener for me these past few weeks when it comes to the division between renters and owners.  I made a post early yesterday morning on Facebook which labels me a commie, if not someone who is similarly affected by the problems of being an insecure renter in these dark times. I feel like I want to re-print it here, for posterity’s sake if nothing else. 

“Here comes the great class battle of our time, our 2020 version of the historical clash between the haves and have-nots. I have read a few posts from friends who are home owners/landlords who want to set the record straight about the steps that are being taken by the government to 'temporarily reprieve' mortgages that they feel are blind to the realities of repayments, and that they will be negatively affected by the a mortgage freeze. This is due to the government's ineffectual attempt that does not address the issue of what capitalised interest means to mortgage holders.  

It's definitely not an easy situation, but I can't get over the discrepancy between those who own, and their relative distance from actual homelessness, and those who rent, who often have nothing to fall back on. Investing is a risk, playing the real estate game is a game, taking on a mortgage is a big responsibility, having a home and roof above one's head should be a right. So before we start to slam irresponsible renters for wanting to strike out at the owning class, because that's what it really is, maybe think about what is at stake here?  
On one hand we're all being told to 'tighten our belts' to start 'minimising our needs' as this situation affects all classes, but the ability to provide someone a home, security, and safety at a time of crisis, or losing your ability to make an income from someone else's labour while to maintain security of your own accommodation is hardly an equal comparison. Without the Australiana jargon about the egalitarian right to own property, that's what being a landowner means, the ability to profit off someone else's labour and accumulate wealth and assets while those who rent continue to work to save to achieve the same outcome. It is as much a result of neo-liberalism that has forced us to look at each situation as individuals, as capital beings, as profit and loss. It's not an even playing field. if you're losing your income due to renters not paying their rent, maybe look at joining the centrelink queue like everyone else. At least we have one. Or think about collective action? it's almost an oxymoron to think of individual investors as a collective bargaining group but together you are. Much like the renters that have very little to fall back on if things get hard, all they have is the ability to band together to become more powerful and have a voice. They don't have the ability, if things get harder, to sell the equity of their investment to stay off the streets. Worth remembering. Rant over. “

Of course, we are most passionate about a cause when it affects us personally.  And I am trying to separate out myself, because I know I have the back-up support of my family to financially support me where not a lot of others do.  I sent this post to an academic colleague and titled it ‘the middle-class Jew’s attempt at socialist discourse.’ But I think about the major causes of our times that have been won by the middle-class, who often have less to lose, lending their weight to a particular issue and achieving real change.  The rent strike group that I have joined is mostly middle-class, I would imagine, with a smattering of migrant children and more working-class or single-parent kids, and like many of the social movements I have studied in my degree, is largely led by those who know they have a right to throw their weight around, an impetus that often only comes with education and a certain social and economic buffer.  While the working classes have traditionally managed to achieve change in conditions through collective action, it is interesting to watch the rental strike group try and motivate the wealthier classes that it is only through direct and collective power that all of our needs and problems can be adressed, when it is our nature of recent generations to look out for our own needs, above the collective good.  

Another day, another wake-up to bad news, and another set of instructions.  According to the Guardian, the global total is up to 30,000 deaths with over 500,000 infected across every continent.  The border between NSW and QLD is closed with the army enforcing the restrictions on travel across one of our busiest stretches of hwy between Byron and Brisbane. The stories are coming thick and fast from every corner of the globe.  From a woman with a megaphone on a rooftop in Amsterdam playing bingo with elder retirement home residents across the way, to my friend Miriam’s video-yoga at 8:30pm on a Saturday night from England. 

Now is the time for creativity and feeding the needs we have in our own community while also reaching out across the intranets.  TikTok is melting down with so much use, as is Zoom getting completely overloaded with business meetings during the day.  If the internet and telecommunications system starts to fry, then we’ll really feel what isolation looks like.  I saw a post last night from a friend with a collection of images from third-world countries of families sharing rooms with their whole family, the cat and the kitchen and toilet all in one space.  We need to shut up and stop complaining.  Also, I bet all those people who decided to downsize and move into that inner-city apartment are suffering more than us further out or in the country with some actual yard space.  I am grateful for the house I have, and the friends, and my ability to garden and have chickens so that I can try to limit my spending. 

I think a lot about the interviews I did for my thesis, with people who didn’t want to live in debt and so chose to build their home out in the bush piecemeal style so they could add a bit here and there as they made the money for it.  It’s a whole different paradigm but one that is aware of limits, and not feeling like they want to be in debt to the bank if calamities, personal or global occur.  I havn’’t heard too much smugness from the self-sufficiency crowd on facebook. I am in a lot of those groups and some of them have definitely adopted the American libertarian hard-core off-grid language and attitude of ‘suck it up it's your fault you didn’t choose to live this way’.  But they are a quiet minority in Australia. Most of us are trying to live versions of minimalism and small-ness but the reality is we’re all dependent on the global marketplace, and few of us could survive of what we grow or kill.  We have developed as a government led communitarian society that feared the outback for the most part, or if we did go remote there was always government support, tax breaks, and write offs to be had.  It’s quite incredible the lengths the government are going to to bail out the economy right now, the recession that will hit us after this is over will be worse than 2008 by a mile.  I wonder about all those Little g ‘Gubment’ people when a crisis hits, how do they reconcile the right of individuals to work and live without interference yet rely heavily on health and welfare systems when things go wrong.  We’ll see if Trump makes it through this shitshow, or they realise he’s a useless muppet. 

Ive started to do check ins on my friends, some near and some further away.  Actually calling them, which isn't so unusual for me as Im known in my group to be the ‘caller’ but to actually do it on a regular basis.  In my moments when I'm trying unsuccessfully not to have another ciggie as it’s the basis of my fear that I could be struck down and die from this virus, I try to call one of my friends.  And often they pick up! I mean, what else can we do to break our own monotonous routine at home, with the same people. 

We only really have time at the moment, although I’m finding that being up in the country means I fill my time with wholesome activities.  Gardening, pickling, walking, baking.  I would probably do the same in the city, but it’s more fun with people I enjoy.  I'm also finding it important to check in on friends, like me, who have no partners or kids.  People are screaming from the halls of social media how hard it is to be locked down with small children, and I can appreciate that kids who are used to getting out, to being busy, to having someone else look after their entertainment needs through childcare and school, would be struggling with monotony and quarantine.  But that is the responsibility and the flip side of the luxury of having kids, you do have to actually look after their needs and take responsibility for them.  I think about my friends, like me, who are single and have no one to share the bed with. 

It’d be a boom time for pregnancies, sure because people are probably having more sex, but not us.  For me to do that would be to compromise my friends and family, so once again, I go without.  Virus’s, pandemics, flu’s, the great isolators, but makes it slightly less so when you have a family to isolate with.  It can be very isolating, and we all fall back on our best friends, our resources, to help us get through.  I do like the people in my house, but we have separate lives, to an extent.  Not for long.  I spoke to a friend the other day who is worried about getting locked down with his housemates as it’s started getting tense, and to forestall the inevitable blow-up, he wants out.  Moving now, in this time, would be hell-ish and I've been monitoring the rent strike and evictions legislation they’re hopefully putting in this week closely.  Housing insecurity, would double my anxiety which is already on edge since they could sell my house out from under me at any point, and though we don’t want to think that people would do that to other people at this time, it is becoming clear that they are, and it is happening and the tenants/landowners divide seems to be getting more and more tense each day. So while I get it’s hard to find activities to entertain children, please think about the rest of us not so lucky as you to have someone we can rely on, and someone we know will take care of us when shit gets hard. That is more isolating than the virus.

A day at home, and as I was just commenting to my housemate, I have always been a fan of plodding around the house doing odd jobs.  Watering the plants, washing out cupboards, finding old photos on hardrives and sending them to people. I took my computer from LaTrobe yesterday and pretty much cleaned up my office.  It felt sad, like my time there was being unceremoniously cut short, but who knows what the future may hold and maybe there will be a run on historians after this crisis is over as we are doomed to repeat the mistake of the past over and over again. 

I bought 10kg of tomatoes down from the country and started the monster passata ritual today, until I ran out of jars.  A friend I bumped into at the dog park this morning has offered to drop more over now, and Ill trade him a few full for empty.  This is how the informal economy will continue to work, through barter and exchange.  There seems to be more space for it now, more time in our lives to do what we are good at (in my case I've become quite adept at baking, canning and preserving). The only sad part is that one of the big facebook karma trade groups in this area has just put out a rule of no material exchanges, as they don’t want to encourage people to move around, or touch things from other people.  It’s fair enough, I guess.  Plus those online networks operate for more than just physical exchange, they are also sites for support and advice. 

That is the major difference with this confinement compared to any other, we all have the internet and as much as there is talk about getting back into reading books or binge-watching Game of Thrones from the beginning, we’re too hooked on the communication is provides.  I’ve been a fairly consistent user of facebook, more since I started my PhD, and ive noticed a trend in people turning to the ‘hive’ instead of asking actual friends for recommendations or information, and definitely over just googling it. 

There’s a certain comfort it seems in getting ‘like-minded’ information from your peers, or social network, for breakfast suggestions, health service providers, celebrants, to places that stock the best seedlings.  Sometimes I suggest, sometimes I just shake my head.  In the context of women often providing more emotional labour I wonder whether this is laziness, or a real yearning to have other people’s input on minute decisions?  Are we so insecure about whether that Indian restaurant is better than the other one down the road, or do we just not have time to waste on shit curry?  Why do we feel that it’s ok to ask people for their time to help us find the best eggs benny?  Yet we willingly give, help, assist, participate.  That’s what we’re realizing in our slow slide into total lock-down.  As much as at times Ive looked at myself and felt shamed for my small social life, we really are active creatures and engage widely in our day to day.  It’s all relative, and It’s not a competition, but this turn to the hive is as much a desire to include people in our lives, and feel included, as it is a genuine need.  And now that the limitations on our spending are in place, will we look to community in the same way?  We won’t be driving out to Dandenong to pick up an IKEA table anymore, but we will be utilising the resources we have at hand, like extra passata bottles.  Thanks Portia.

Well as pandemics go, we all have to learn to adapt and flow.  With less than 24hrs notice our school shut completely and if I wanted to access my office, or computer, I had to make a run for it and get in there before the ‘mythical’ gates shut.  I guess today was a return to Uni day, both virtually and physically as I managed to get in there from an hour and a half away after a morning reading group, and before an afternoon seminar program, all done digitally.  It was really nice to see familiar faces together on a screen, even though its been a few months for me I realized what a big part of my life these people, and their regular input into my work, has been.  I will miss it.  I think this virus will sound the death knell for more than one business, industry and opportunities for newly graduated researchers like myself. 

It’s hard to even imagine how things will ‘get back to normal’ that state which we crave so much now that it is now obviously so far from normal, and will be for the forseeable future.  Everything is pretty much closed down, except for hairdressers and open-air foodcourts, as Sammy J quipped tonight on his latest video.  The national football codes, the Olympics, the major festivals, ballet etc etc etc.  Everything from the local stitch and bitch right up to the Premier’s awards and citizenship ceremonies. Cancelled.  IT’s like a routine check in, with ourselves, thanks to nature and our globalized society. Instead of just knocking out one region, or tribe, it will spread globally and mutate considerably until it’s done its dash and finished. 

It makes me think of the famous parable by MR Smith in the Matrix when he compares humankind to a virus, that spreads and eats and consumes until it can grow no more.  Compared to the robots that symbolise a despotic but clever system that figures out how to sustain itself, it makes humankind look pretty bad.  In our reading group this morning we were talking about science, and the role of numbers in discussions of climate change.  The discussion ranged over the hour and a half, and kept sliding into neat parables that related to the current catastrophe as symbolic of the way society relates to the inconceivable and (doesn’t) adapt accordingly, but it made sense to relate it to this context because there is a disturbing division happening between the scientists and the politicians and I don’t think they’ve really made enough hubbub about closing down parliament for 5 months. 

It just got passed without hardly a challenge! They suspended parliament!  There will continue to be policies, but they will not be discussed by elected officials, only bureaucrats in the health, technology and economics divisions of Federal government.  This is truly disturbing.  It’s not a nationwide emergency, where special powers are given, they just shut it down.  And we accepted it, and barely a mention was made on the radio or in the press, and definitely not enough it taking place across the walls of social media where most discussions are happening these days.

I never thought I would be looking forward to my academic engagements, and it’s only been 3 months since I officially handed in my thesis.  Given my chosen absence from the school space owing to needing a break from it all, I am excited to have some ‘work’ to engage with since I can’t seem to see to finishing my thesis, let alone starting work on publishing it or other articles at this point.  It all seems too new, too raw and maybe I took too long a break from my brain to expect it to kick back in, or maybe I'm just playing at academia anyways. 

Tomorrow we have our much-loved reading group, which will take place via zoom, and the start of our postgraduate seminar program, which ironically, will probably get more attention digitally than it did as a front-up event during normal times.  We will all be in the same boat, craving engagement, and wanting to support each other as we all know, working on a PhD is isolating at the best of times, let alone when you can’t go to school, or the library, or meet n have coffee to check in with each other.  I bumped into two of the post grads at the park last week walking their dogs and asked how they were doing with the transition to working from home.  Like everyone they have to adjust their schedule, and are limited by not being able to do research in the archives, but there’s always writing, and always more reading one can do and it might be an uncomfortable, but valuable period in one’s candidature to be forced to write and just keep moving forward with one’s own work, irrespective of the situation outside.   

My mind goes once again to wartime, an increasingly apt historical comparison it seems as this pandemic goes on, and I think about all of the major works and significant discoveries that happened during periods of stress.  Of course, the ones that immediately spring to mind such as Oppenheimer’s discovery of the nuclear atom and the development of penicillin came out of necessity, and were well funded campaigns with an ulterior motive, but I wonder at all those thinkers who hunkered down, with no internet or access to resources, and just used the dark time to ponder, to create, to imagine.  The music must have had some kind of developmental renaissance, as what else is there to do?  I’ve watched as all my struggling artists and musician friends are trying to continue to sell their wares online, and it’s an interesting time to see how people do spend their money because there are a lot of people on salary who have disposable incomes.  There’s no consumerism, apparently the company that fared the worst in stock trading the other day was AfterPay as the ass fell out of the online purchasing world overnight.  Fewer deliveries, more focus on the local.  Hopefully this translates into people putting their money into small Australian businesses, operators and arts.   
Katharine Murphy wrote an impassioned article for the Guardian yesterday that talked about Australia finally looking inwards and stopping all the global game playing it had been engaged with for generations, from England, to America and beyond.  To look around, instead of across the seas, to see firsthand the repercussions of moving our manufacturing overseas and outsourcing our businesses to international conglomerates.  Is this crisis going to bring about a resurgence of nationalism, but framed within a globalist discourse?  I looked an domestic self-sufficiency in my thesis, with people reclaiming power from the government and companies during periods of stress, but much of the discussion I found in my research was focused on national self-sufficiency, of agriculture, of oil production, of industry.  This was the mantra for successive governments since Federation, how to protect the ship from sinking as we sat precariously on the outer edge of civilization.  Now that edge may be our savior, as New Zealand is pointing us too.  We have enough food, and we have water, and we have fuel.  Global trade will take such a big hit after this event, I wonder if it will inspire a re-localisation at a national, if not a domestic level. The iconic poster of How to Build Community seems even more apt now that we are realising how precarious our lives are if only dependent on relationships of commerce and trade, and not love and care.