“I have found it harder to go out since the pandemic,” someone said to me just a few days ago. They are not alone in this experience. Whilst for many the pandemic is fully past and life much as it was before, for others this is not the case.
We vividly remember this month four years ago, when our lives were turned upside down overnight as we were plunged into lockdown. Questions cascaded – ‘How do we do our job?… do the shopping?… see our families?’ A weird world of face-masks and lockdown rules enveloped us. More serious were the tragic ever-mounting deaths, with many others seriously ill. Many of us experienced the pain of separation from loved ones barricaded in care homes.
It is no wonder that the Covid pandemic is recognised as a trauma, to individuals and to our society. Whilst the original shock is past, after-shocks continue. Reduced confidence or desire to socialise is one such effect. It is good to be able to voice this, and see it as unsurprising. It can be a form of post-traumatic stress.
Physical effects of ‘long Covid’ persist for some. Alan, a previously energetic friend with whom I did my clergy training, had to take early retirement recently because of debilitating physical and neurological symptoms. Government data reveals that 700,000 more people in the UK are classed as ‘economically inactive for health reasons’ than before the pandemic. Children who missed socialising experiences at key formative stages may forever carry some effect. Even pandemic dogs have been shown to often display lower sociability. On the up-side, increased home-working has helped many – and we discovered the ubiquitous Zoom.
Lent, through which we currently travel, takes us towards trauma. Good Friday shattered the lives of Jesus’s friends. Yet Easter resurrection revealed there is always life beyond. But it wasn’t the same life as before. And Jesus’ scars from the Cross still bore testimony to the past trauma.
Not only is the UK Covid-19 Inquiry still ongoing, but the pandemic’s impact continues too for more people than is often voiced – due to loss, memories, or mental or physical scarring. Lent invites us to be real and to be still. And to allow the gentle healing that can come beyond trauma, whatever our scars.
Rev David Carrington
Picture: Easter sunrise 2020
