Covid means we all have to live in the moment

Best thing about lockdown? Living in the moment, a concept I’ve ignored along with forest bathing, hygge and adorable costumes for my cat off the internet. Who has the time?

But Covid brings uncertain times when it’s best not to dwell on the future, so I’m making the moments count, good, bad or sad, and my morning Couch to 5K slogjog puts me on the right path.

The good – I watch as a child in the distance skips towards me, carefree. Close up she’s in fact a woman my age, beaming as she passes. Skipping! I’ve been wanting to do that for ages – not the intense exercise beloved of boxers and gym bunnies wearing tight wee shoes and tighter shorts, whipping a skipping rope around Dita Von Teese style. I mean the happy, hoppy thing kids with a stitch do to slow down, catch their breath. Without checking who’s watching I give it a go, no-one cares anyway, and right now neither do I.

The bad – news of yet another bereavement among my friends pings on my mobile as I run. I’m thinking of them, planning to send an appropriate message later. Later? At the moment later’s often too late. So I text them straight away, clumsy but candid, because friends are more important than fear of social faux pas.

The sad – another hearse passes so I stop jogging and stand, thinking my usual mantra: ‘I hope you loved and were loved’ as it slides by followed by the few, permitted mourners. Across the road a man and his child, standing together alone on the deserted street corner, squeeze bagpipes into a lament that makes the hairs on the back of the neck stand up.

The good – running on, there’s a new Covid exercise sign on the pathway, on which one of this year’s fledgling crows is perched. She’s fluffy and gallus, and our eyes lock. We share a moment.

Another moment is lived. And on it goes. ■