It’s been 30 years since I can remember not having any demands on my time, when I can just be, rather than do. The lockdown in the UK, has many disadvantages, which I’ll not document here. What I’ve been concentrating on is the gift of time I’ve been granted by being told to simply stay at home.
The summer following my sitting my GCSE exams was the last time I can remember having nothing to do other than sit in the garden and lose myself, with no time constraints, and simply lose myself in something. Then, it was my parents’ collection of Jean Plaidy novels. I fell into the stories of Tudor love and Borgia politics of violence.
Now I’ve got time on my hands again, I’ve been able to lose myself in reading, drawing and rummaging around in my brain to see what I find in there. Life will soon return to normal, so I’m going to make the most of business not running as usual and sit in my deckchair, while I have the time to do so.
