The van diemen decameron
Restlessness Lockdown 3:1

The days go quickly now

Time flies they say

But in reality it does not

Minutes drag into hours

Tedium and repetition expanded

Futures were once planned

Futures were once expected

but not any more

The future is a laneway down winding steps

With only darkness at the bottom
 

Aimless “work” - “activities”

Self absorbed - directed compliance

Keeping minds and bodies engaged

Now only to fill in the spaces

Delays between the hours of more tedium

weekends blend together

Days and nights become long and incoherent

Sleep enhanced with medication

Waking consumed with testing

To calm confused and conflicted minds

The same and more of the same again
 

Travel is limited

Stay together

Stay at home

At first limited but now becoming non existent

Borders now become solid

Solid - fixed and closed

Lines on maps now coalesce

Visual barriers become closed again
 

No visitors just family

Only family with you

No visitors - the same people

Numbers matter

the same activities each day

Recognition and recall blurring

New faces that are consistent and regular

Only the eyes remembered

Remembered for a short while

Time has shrunk - restricted to small blocks
 

Local and accessible areas of the outside world identified

Courtyards and balconies

The outside world shrinking

Reduced to recognised and approved safe spaces

Internal spaces - regulated access only

Time is calculated and closely watched

Clocks on the wall watched fervently

Watches on arms checked

Ensuring the time spent is reasonable

What is reasonable?

What is selfish?
 

A life put on hold for an indeterminate time

No not the singular

Rather- lives put on hold

Groups - a small community of lost souls floating in time

Floating together in a sea of increasing confusion

Confusion and fear
 

Hours and days become lost

Fading slowly into a past unclaimed

Disappearing

A past that is now obscure and discordant

Never to be recovered whole

The present is now gone as soon as it is lived

The zen of isolation

Living in a moment that is transitory and illusionary

Hoping for a solid future


Outside of the insular safe space of the lounge room

Or the bedroom or the garden

both time and life move on - but discordant and slow

Opportunities missed and sometimes never imagined

Plans non-existent now and on indefinite hold

Now memories have become distorted and vague

Expectations and excitement redacted

The wider world becoming increasingly concentric

The circle of life becomes compressed

The spirit of adventure restrained and reducing

Tolerances beginning to fray
 

The future and the present blending

now reduced to mundane cycles

Plans made in the past no longer relevant

Tedious activities and responses taking their place

Limited steps repeated and monitored by the clock

Regulated thinking

Energy levels decreasing

Interest and enthusiasm fading

The restlessness of waiting growing

The resignation of waiting increasing


Waiting for life to restart

To continue as the same

The return to “normal”

What is normal?

Return to what was before

But it never will

Trapped in the routine

Trapped by the routine

The routine of a world on pause

A world shrinking on all levels

No longer the expectation of new thoughts


Now there is Waiting

Merely waiting

Clinical order is maintained

Safe and sterile

Must be maintained


Bodily functions are regulated and monitored

Tea and biscuits organised and allocated

Interactions are increasingly limited

becoming insular, internal and technological in nature

Communication reducing to basic needs

Face to face on a tabloid screen

Life is ordered and calm

bodies moving in slowing decline

Nature culling the herd - the extent worldwide and ruthless

Lost souls shuffling behind hollow eyes

Restless - waiting for the journey yet to come

Waiting for this one to end
 

The need to shake off the enduring tiredness of this life

The faint yet pungent smell of death

Hidden behind the clinical freshness of chemicals

lingers pervasively everywhere

Reports of lives lost and losing the fight

Fear seeping into the walls from television screens

But the human spirit is still evident

Subtle and small in the background

Strengthened and acknowledged

by brief visits from and into the outside world

And then only for a short time

Before they again return

Leaving the world of fear

Back to the restless souls behind closed doors


Masks add to the worry

Distances shrinking again

But must be maintained

Individual rights are subsumed by the needs of the many

A bigger picture is in play

The story continues again

Time for individuals to take responsibility

For themselves and ultimately

the safety and life of the community

The future is now in the hands of others and ourselves


Written in 2020

Dr Geoff Wilmshurst spent 40 years as a professional teacher in disability education. He now spends his time travelling , writing and painting, and enjoying life with his wife Lorraine. He lives in the Blue Mountains in NSW, and finds inspiration for his work in its environment and that of similar places such as Tasmania and New Zealand. He hopes through art and poetry to connect with others, to make a positive difference in their lives, and to share the experience of what it means to be human and part of the natural world.