I want to be alone (by two metres)

When the recent government directives about social distancing began, my immediate thoughts were that they would be quite easy to adhere to. My wife will tell you that at parties and events I frequently disappear. I will usually drift outside to get some fresh air and then come in once the smokers arrive to get their version of fresh air (and negate mine). 

I have always had an instinct, almost certainly acquired from my father, that when I see a crowd I go in the opposite direction. I’m not a leader wanting the masses to follow me and neither am I a sheep, wishing to keep up with the crowd. In the words of Marlene Dietrich, I (usually) want to be alone.*

Image

Marlene Dietrich by Don English, c.1932 // Freddie Mercury by Mick Rock, c.1973. Permission not sought, so shoot me.

Anyone who has read my intro to these pages will know that I see myself as an observer rather than a participant. My rock music idols were David Bowie and Freddie Mercury and if you read almost any of the former’s lyrics and watched that (5/10) Bohemian Rhapsody film, you’ll understand that these people legitimised (in my mind) the position of being on the fringe. They were both clearly ‘different’ and I related to that difference.

Without too much inspection, we can see that many scientific and artistic successes have had similar outside-looking-in traits; Modigliani, Van Gogh, Lionel Messi, Georg Eliot, Alan Turing, Tracey Emin,  etc…  An obvious observation is that to concentrate, focus, test, re-test and submit, you have to be removed from distractions and distractions at their deepest, can include everything.

Hands-up. I have never been able to look away from distractions. In fact, it’s been the opposite, I find distractions magnetic and stimulating. When some 30++ years ago I took a degree in Literature, I was so distracted towards painted art that I think I learned as much about that as I did about novels, poetry and plays. ‘Sigh’, if only we still had dinner parties  where I could show-off …

Social distancing is not proving easy. I have been scolded several times by my wife when we have been on a walk and I careened too close to another person. One telling-off is enough to get the penny to drop and for me to bring the 2, or is it 3? Metre rule to the front of my mind. And this is the nub, we need to make social distancing our primary thought when we go out and yet it is counter intuitive because it relegates everything else.

I don’t love crowds, but equally, I do like swapping a smile or a greeting with a person in the park. Many of us do and we have all heard stories about how people have become friends because their dogs bonded on the daily walk. Humans and other animals are largely social and physical distancing means we cannot on a psychoanimalistic level smell each other, and that’s what makes it difficult. It toys with our primal senses.

Talking of sensory curtailment, I went for a 4km run this morning. The other people (mainly runners) kept their distances. We were trading body and eye language; ‘I’ll go left, so you too go left’, and it worked except for one person. This is person is known to me already and is on the Autism Spectrum. They are younger and faster and overtook me. Twice! Each time I was lapped they came too close but I couldn’t get indignant because I know they have spacial awareness challenges.  

This is a weird and colourful time. We are in Spring with trees in blossom uncurling their leaves. There’s an abundance of shades of green and flowers and birds. Even the worms are a welcome sight and their greasy stirrings confirm the earth is alive churning out newness.

However, this year and these nights differ from all others because we cannot look at the rebirth (Re-nato btw) we need to contemplate physical spaces and be patient with people who do not quite get it. Just share smiles and distanced greetings.

Remember; avoid breathing in or out and you’ll be fine. 

*Wanting to be alone, is a luxury offered to those who like me, are not alone. Millions of people are alone and do not benefit from that status. I am aware of my privilege and am grateful for it.