Reflections on Coronavirus Part 9

In the nineth week of the 'Making Sense: Understanding the Meaning We See in the COVID-19 Pandemic' supervision conversations, we have continued to explore our experiences and perceptions of the world around us. As in previous weeks, this discussion was a free flowing conversation between coaches and consultants, and the summary below attempts to capture the themes. Some of the group had attended calls before and for others it was the fist time. People dialled in from Barcelona, Paris, Mumbai, Singapore, and London.

The call happened in the week that lockdown restrictions were being eased in many European countries, and we discussed a strong sense of grief that for some, accompanied this change. We considered how the 'bubble' had burst, and as we once again mixed with other people, albeit on a limited basis, there was a sense that the safety of confinement had passed. We explored shared feelings of transition and leaving, anticipation and anxiety and the rites of passage and rituals that accompany these. One person described how they were drawn to traditional songs where the bride leaves home for a new life, and quoted a short verse from a Sufi poet:

'My father! I'm leaving home...Your courtyard is now like a mountain, and the threshold a foreign country'.

We considered how we were now making new rituals to guide ourselves and our clients on this journey.

We agreed that the strangeness of the shared experience had broken down the social boundaries that define and separate us from those people outside our normal 'circles'. We did not need an excuse to speak to strangers and as we return to our normal roles, we wondered whether we would return to the social divisions that they brought with them.

Some felt optimistic about the coming weeks, suggesting that this sense of community and connection could be maintained, and would open up new choices about the way in which we live. Others felt neither optimistic nor pessimistic, but rather that we have simply entered a new reality that somehow feels more real than the world of only a few months ago. There was a sense that the recent feelings of confusion and paralysis, were giving way to a more vivid feeling of being alive, in part prompted by the possibility of death and scarcity. The sense of grandiosity and self importance had been 'punched out of the planet' and there was the possibility of building something more solid than the 'sandcastles' we were used to.

I introduced the idea of liminality, the magical spaces 'betwixt and between' worlds (Turner 1969, p.95) where we play and transform. In these spaces we must accept that we do not know what may happen next and can only wait patiently for the future to emerge. We are no longer of the old world, but not yet of the new. These spaces are defined by the quality and richness of our relationships, 'communitas' (p.97) as we leave our roles and social status behind and interact with strangers on an equal basis as 'human totals' (Turner 1974, p.269). In liminal space, this experience of connection is the catalyst through which we develop as human beings, take up new roles in new ways and shape the development of our societies.

Some described how they felt that they were becoming more 'political'. They had been unimpressed by the pronouncements of leaders and gurus and with this came an equal sense of helplessness and abandonment, alongside appetite and energy. People described how the greater connection with their smaller community was contrasted with a sense of anger towards the larger system. It was suggested that while we were 'all in the same storm, some of us were in different boats' and we wondered whether the appetite for change was present in all echelons of society. We wondered whether the leaders who led us here, would be capable of leading us onwards. I was reminded of Leon Trotsky's comment that 'the revolution is there in the nerves before it comes out the street' (Trotsky 1932 p.33)

We then considered what next and the question of whether we wanted to return to our organisations, and how we would be received by them? Did we now want what they have to offer and the working practices of the past? Has our relationship with authority changed? One person described a recent encounter with the police, where he had broken quarantine to go for a walk, and was aggressively told to return home. He had laughed at the absurdity of the encounter and was as a result cautioned formally by the officer. He wondered whether this was the price he had to pay for the protection of authority, and noted that it felt abusive and infantile. Perhaps the price of adulthood is that we need to learn agency and make decisions for ourselves.

We then returned to music and wondered about its meaning for us. We discussed what music we were listening to and why; from traditional songs to rock music to silence. Some described how they were listening to religious music, even though they were themselves not religious, as its simplicity was appealing. Others described the energy of rock music as a route to channelling anger. We wondered whether sound filled the spaces left by the sense of fear created by the pandemic and whether even a conversation about music was a distraction from anxiety. Some described the need for silence and the intimacy and closeness that it brought.

We considered the experience of birdsong. Someone described how in the first weeks of the pandemic, they listened to birdsong with real pleasure, and then there came a moment when they could no longer bear the sound. The birdsong had become a cacophony that was too loud and too complex.

We reflected that perhaps it was profoundly important to consider what we were paying attention to, and why?

The conversations will continue next week....

References

Trotsky, L. (12017) History of the Russian Revolution. London: Penguin

Turner, V. (1969). The Ritual Process. New York: Aldine De Gruyter

Tuner, V. (1974). Drama, Fields and Metaphors: Symbolic Action in Human Society. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press.