The Days of Lockdown – week 8

8 May 2020 – Freedom 

It was a momentous week with important speeches. On the 4th of May, we always remember the victims of the 2nd World War, which ended 75 years ago this year. On the 5th, we celebrate Liberation day. The King gave a moving speech about those who were not heard and seen during the Occupation and his own grandmother’s role in all this. He spoke about how he was still haunted, not free of these things. We may have relative freedom of movement during these corona times, but there are some things we will never be free of, like our past. 

There are certain political parties that tote the word ‘freedom’ or ‘democracy’ in their names and they have been gaining a lot of traction during lockdown. People, afraid of the silence and frustrated by the restrictions, have latched on to online forums that promote ‘autonomy’ and ‘self-determination’. Russian trolls and American Alt-right groups have joined forces to advocate these liberties. Not freedom ‘to’, but freedom ‘from’: freedom from foreigners, 5G, vaccinations, taxes. I have seen some of my own friends fall into these cult-like factions, who have no qualms about disseminating half-truths or outright lies to gain a larger following. 

Freedom of expression is an issue here. Youtube has started removing videos that contain fake facts about Covid19, while Facebook now issues a warning when something might be false. This is grist to the mill of conspiracists, of course: “You see, they’re trying to silence us!” Some of the falsehoods that these groups spread could in fact be life-threatening, but is censorship the answer? In some ways yes, because the more people are exposed to an idea, the more they will think there is some truth to it. The backlash, however, could be worse. One thing is from sure: we’ll never be free from fake news. 

“But surely we have freedom of thought?” you might ask. Honestly, I don’t think so. We are the product of our family and cultural backgrounds, the natural environment we grow up in, the limitations of our own intelligence and imagination. A lot of the ideas we have aren’t even our own at all, even if we believe they are. Mass hysteria, propaganda, brainwashing, (self) hypnosis and, of course, confirmation bias: these are real, and we don’t know when we’ve fallen under their spell. Some research even suggests we barely have free will. When asked to choose between two slides projected onto a screen, tests show the brain activity is higher before we even see the slides – we have already chosen before we know what the choices are. We also barely seem to have the freedom to change our minds once they’re made up. 

The second speech this week came from our PM Mark Rutte, announcing the loosening of some of the restrictions. The government has come up with an ‘exit strategy’, which takes up step by step into the ‘new normal’. I, for one, am going to miss the peace and quiet, the spontaneity of a simple life, the fresher air. I will no longer be free from commotion, crowds, commute – a freedom that has made me feel so much better these last few weeks. It’s great to be able to go to the dentist and the hairdresser’s again, though. 

Source: Medium.com

So, the ‘Days of Lockdown’ are winding down. What will come next? I barely dare speculate, but Brabant province gave us a bit of a taster this week: the populist party and consorts have been able to eliminate what they call ‘left-wing hobbies’ from governance altogether: ‘culture’ now falls under ‘free time and leisure’ and will be largely de-funded, while nature and farming are now considered one and the same thing, so investments in developing or maintaining nature will also be decreased. Of course, many people have lost their jobs during this crisis, so the government had promised to help out financially. Yesterday I read a small article that said they will set up an agency that is supposed to find people jobs ‘before they get into the benefits system’. Will these involuntarily unemployed have the freedom to decline a job that really doesn’t suit them? I seriously doubt that. 

The virus may be subsiding, but now I’m really scared.

The Days of Lockdown – week 7

30 April 2020: Challenges

We had the great weather. We had the King’s birthday. We have a school holiday. Normally, none of these things would be a big deal. In our new reality, each of these events test our mettle, our stamina, our resolve, our sense of responsibility, our will to self-denial. Each represent a choice, a challenge. Will we do the right thing, i.e. stay (close to) home and keep our distance? How long will we be able keep this up? When will we start to crumble? 

Our self-control is challenged in many ways: not only do we have to stop ourselves from hugging each other, we must also stop ourselves from metaphorically beating others over the head when we disagree on how to handle this crisis. The online vitriol and paranoia are spreading faster than Covid19 and could be equally fatal. How do we find one another when we are on opposite sides? We are living in the quietest time of our lives, yet it remains hard to listen. 

To pass the time, we have invented ‘challenges’ on social media: “for 10 days, post a picture of: a book that meant a lot to you; a record that shaped your musical taste; a photo of yourself as a performer when you felt empowered. No explanations, just 10 pictures.” No explanation? What’s the point of that? I want to know why that book/record/performance meant so much. Surely, most of us have seas of time now to tell and read these stories? Isn’t this the perfect period to get to know ourselves and each other better? Or is social distancing slowly turning into emotional distancing? Are we crumbling as human beings?

Source: Gaia.com

And then there are the challenges of the future. What will we do when we go back to ‘normal’, if that even exists? The Netherlands may well reach its climate goals for this year, if the lockdown goes on a while longer. That sounds like great news, but actually shows how much is needed to reach those goals: the whole country on standstill for months. What will we do about all the people who lost their jobs? Will we finally instate a universal basic income, or will we start blaming the unemployed again after a while for being ‘lazy’ or ‘unmotivated’, as we always do. Will we bail out companies that siphon off their cash to their billionaire shareholders in offshore tax havens?

It seems to me we have this one chance. If we mess it up, we won’t get a second. The ultimate challenge for humankind to show its true spirit. As I said, it is hard for people to listen, but I feel this is our way forward. Listen to ourselves - not our puny egos, but our essence; listen to each other, the stories of people close and far and really feel them; listen to the experts, instead of assuming we are all miraculously all-knowing; listen to the heartbeat of the earth and try to align ourselves with that pulse. 

We humans are made of stories. We talk about events in our lives as if they have a logical sequence, a purpose, a conclusion. In reality, they seldom do. So, let’s write a new story: of how humanity woke up from its selfish nightmare and saved the planet. Or, better still, let us, like the Aboriginals, sing a brand new world into existence!  

The Days of Lockdown week 6

 20 April 2020 - Sanity and sanitisation

At no other time in history have people washed their hands as much as they are doing now. Signs of sold-out sanitiser have never been so commonplace. It makes you wonder what the environmental impact of all this handwashing is: how much has our water consumption increased and what’s the effect of all that soap? In any case, the message has sunk in that we need to keep our paws pristine.

Human contact has been deeply sanitised too. Social distancing ensures that nothing ‘untoward’ will occur: no kissing, or even holding hands, let alone sex with someone you’ve just met, or conducting an illicit affair. Our hands are clean, and our behaviour could withstand the scrutiny of the Puritans. “Cleanliness is next to godliness”, we are taught, and we’re doing a great job at the moment.  

One wonders, though, what effect all this sanitisation has on our sanity. The lack of human touch may not only cause depression and weaken our immune system, it can apparently also make us less empathetic. We need to be touched to be touched. The longer the lack of contact continues, the more chance there is that people will start caring less about the ones we’ve been trying to protect with this lockdown. We already see resolve crumbling, people starting to wash their hands of the whole business.

Another side-effect of the lockdown is that life lacks excitement. However, humans have come up with a brilliant scheme to keep the adrenaline flowing. More and more of my sanest friends are falling under the spell of conspiracies. The theories have to become increasingly outlandish to keep the rush going: more fear and outrage are needed to keep the adrenaline-junkies pumped up.

Clean Mind. Source: The Pioneer

In order to keep my own sanity, I have had to clean up my social media accounts. Last week I talked about ‘snoozing’ people, but this week the deluge became so great, I had to stem the tide by unfriending and even blocking some. I have started weaving what I call a ‘web of sanity’ around me, with friends who still retain their critical faculties. So, corona is not just making people sick, it also exposes sick relationships and helps clean them up. ‘Every downside has an upside,’ soccer legend Johan Cruijff used to say.

The fact is, we don’t fare so well in a sterile environment, both mentally and physically. We literally need the microbes on our hands to keep our immune system informed. We need to get our hands dirty, get stuck in with something concrete to do, or we lose our sanity. Hands and minds, the outer and inner world, that’s what it all comes down to now. If we can find a balance, we may be able to clean up our act as a species, and perhaps even cleanse our souls.

  

The Days of Lockdown - week 5

The Days of Lockdown – week 5

12 April 2020 - Snoozing

Today is Easter, the day of the Resurrection. The Lord may have risen, but we have not. We are still in limbo, awaiting judgment. We are neither here nor there, so to speak. We are not fully awake to what’s going on or what’s going to happen. We are snoozing.

After four weeks, we know the drill: wash hands, keep distance, don’t meet up. We don’t have to think about it too much anymore. Slowly we are becoming accustomed to this ‘new normal’. We still follow the news, but not as frantically: we doze off in the middle of another avalanche of numbers, knowing there will be more tomorrow.

We literally hit the snooze button. Working from home, or not working, means we can get out of bed later – something that has improved the quality of life of this night owl immensely, by the way. We can sleep a little longer, though there are reports of people having more nightmares and vivid dreams. When the world stands still, every movement stands out.

Facebook has an option where you can ‘snooze’ someone for 30 days, meaning you don’t see any of their posts unless you go looking for them. I have found myself increasingly making use of this possibility to fend off the madness of those who can’t slumber in the status quo. They post ever more frantic and outlandish conspiracy theories in which lizards from outer space have invented 5G to give us all corona and control us through microchips implanted by über-overlord Bill Gates. These days we discover what helps and what hinders us, who are our kindred spirits and whose ways of thinking seem sheer insanity.  

In this subdued state, this quiet time, we can consider ourselves and the world around us. We may not be able to act, but we can observe and see all that is wrong and right around us. That’s why this time is an opportunity to become truly awake, if we dare to take it. Still, good and bad signs abound in equal numbers, so the jury is still out and in limbo we remain.

Looking back at some astrological forecasts, which I generally tend to take with a pinch of salt, it is almost shocking to see how accurate they were. This year and the next are supposed to constitute radical change. The first half of 2020 would be relatively peaceful – the quiet before the storm, as we are experiencing now in this sleepy state. The second half will be a rude awakening, as we will be faced with the consequences of this interval.

What and who will still be standing? How will positions of power have changed? Will friends still be friends and enemies still be enemies? I think we will look back on this period with nostalgia. Walking along the quiet canals under an incredibly clear blue sky, going for midnight strolls with the stars overhead, meeting friends in the middle of the week, sitting together at 1.5 meters distance. These will be the good old days - at least, for those of us privileged enough to be able to afford social distancing.

So, let’s take this opportunity to snooze, to rest, to slumber, to dream and to imagine. And when things have become clear, we will wake up and see who is ready for the resurrection. 

The Days of Lockdown - Day 17

2 April 2020

Day 17 – Grounded

Here we all are, at home, most likely in front of a screen, at some undefined time of the day and we’re not supposed to go out. We’re grounded. Because we’ve been bad - or so some people say. We’ve been neglecting our duties; we’ve been shirking our responsibilities and now we have to stay put. We’ve been messing up the very ground we walk on, we’ve run the climate, nature, our own physical and mental wellbeing into the ground. Our plane has been literally and figuratively grounded; our ship has run aground.

OK, I’m sure you get the picture (while perhaps also wondering whether I wrote all this without the use of a thesaurus). Everything has ground to a halt. So, what’s the best way forward? Ah, there is none. Well, maybe one: becoming grounded. Wait, what? Yes, grounded. As in the sense of being sensible, down-to-earth (seriously, did she use a thesaurus?). While our heads are spinning with incessant Covid updates and frustrations are rising, this is a perfect moment to get grounded. To feel the earth beneath our feet, to breathe slowly, in a more natural rhythm, and listen, really listen. We’ve not had time for this, but now we do!  

Today, I gained some ground in this area by getting my hands into the ground (I know, I’ll stop soon, I promise). I got some little pots and bags of dirt, some seeds and natural fertilizer and planted some vegetables, which I hope to nurse in my windowsill and grow on my balcony. Getting one’s hands dirty is such a calming thing to do. Every day I will check to see whether the soil is still moist enough, whether there are any signs of tiny stalks shooting up from the earth. It will be a slow process, just like it will be a slow process to get out of this corona crisis. Hopefully, by the time the outbreak is over, and we can break out of our confinement, the plants will be big and strong and so will we.

We will be like Maximus, grabbing some dirt and rubbing it in our hands, getting ready to face our challenges. We will kiss the ground of our new-found, new-invented land. And hopefully, we’ll be more down-to-earth about what we can and cannot, should and should not do. Ah, I see my head is still in the clouds: I need more grounding! 

Today's installment is dedicated to Jade Wah'oo Grigori for his inspiring cup of tea!

The Days of Lockdown - day 15

31 March

Day 15 – Lethargy

This week, I’ve not felt very motivated to get out of bed, plonk myself in front of the computer screen and throw some motivational blahblah at my students. The students themselves also seem to lack enthusiasm, umph, joie-de-vivre. I’ve been putting off writing this blog for a couple of days, because do my 11 readers really care? Yes, if you’re reading this, you make up 9% of my readership, so my deepest gratitude to you for taking the time! But then, I remind myself that I am writing this lockdown journal mostly for myself, to keep sane, to keep track, like marking lines on a prison wall. This is the stage of lockdown I knew would come, but was least looking forward to: lethargy.

The students and I do a choreographed dance. We all know the moves; we’ve rehearsed them beforehand. We take all the steps, but with minimal effort, to create a sloppy version of normalcy. We all know that none of this matters. Is it really important to analyse the imagery in the balcony scene from Romeo & Juliet? Of course not, but most of us play the game, do the dance, because we’re not sure what else to do. This is the dangerous stage.

Lethargy can turn to apathy and grow into depression. What to do? The ‘normal’ school stuff just won’t do anymore. In this, I see a glimmer of hope. The kids were most animated when we were simply engaging in conversation, talking about what things might come. Tonight, the PM announced that the measures will remain in place until at least the end of April, maybe longer. That’s four more weeks of ‘Distant Learning’. I’m going to have to come up with something helpful, something these youngsters might find useful in their current situation, something communal, something fun.  

Many nights during this lockdown, I look up through my roof window and see stars. When was the last time we could see so many stars in this city? I lie very still and try to tune in to the hum of the universe. What is it telling us? I feel there is an answer stirring deep inside me, but I can’t catch it yet. If I find it, my dear 11 readers, you will be the first to know!

The Days of Lockdown - a tale of our times. week 2

27 March

Day 12 of lockdown – the art of boredom

This weekend is apparently a crucial one when it comes to the spread of the virus, so Minister Grapperhaus (yes, that’s a name) has implored us to really stay at home the coming days. “Yes, your weekend may be more boring than other times,” he said, “but there are other things you can do, like have a good conversation, read a book, turn on Netflix.” I thought it was interesting that he mentioned these things in that particular order. He, like me, grew up in the days before internet, before mobile phones, before Netflix, and television was something that started at around 6 p.m. and there were only two channels. So, what did we do to entertain ourselves?

Having a good conversation was the first thing Grapperhaus mentioned and that’s exactly what we did. I remember long evenings, sitting around with friends, philosophising about everything we could think of. We would discuss music and deconstruct a certain baseline, or comment on the sound quality of somebody’s loudspeakers. I guess me and my friends were a bunch of pedantic intellectuals, but we sure knew how to pass the time.

Reading loads of books was normal. For my final exam – and this part counted for only 10-15% of my final grade – I had to read 30 books for Dutch, 20 for English, 12 each for French and German and 6 for History. That’s 80 books in about 20 months, about one book a week. It did seem a bit much, but not outrageously so.

There has been one time in my life that I was in true lockdown. When I was around seven, I was locked in my room up in the attic for three days, only allowed out to use the bathroom. I was Rapunzel in her tower, but with hair that was too thin and short and no prince to save me. You might think that I had done something truly horrific to deserve this, but believe me, it is merely a reflection of the insane household I grew up in. So, what did I do to not go crazy? I did a lot of “niksen” (more on which later), I stared out the window, I day-dreamed, but above all, I read. As long as I had my books (which I hid under my pillow, lest they might take them away), I had a whole other world to live in. A big book of fairy tales was my favourite. I have no mementos, toys or trinkets left from those days, except that very book. The three days went by quicker than I expected.

The Dutch concept of “niksen” suddenly came back into vogue when Time Magazine published an article about it last year. Niksen literally means to do nothing, to be idle or doing something without any use or purpose. Pottering about. Eve Ekman from Berkeley University says “the research is strong when it comes to the benefits of slowing down, from emotional perks (like reducing anxiety) to physical advantages, like curtailing the aging process and strengthening the body’s ability to fight off the common cold.”  If “niksen” can help fight the cold, maybe it can also help fight off Covid-19! Allow yourself and your children to be bored. Plenty of studies show that boredom has a wide range of benefits. It sparks our creativity, makes us more inventive and also more altruistic. These are the characteristics we would like our kids to develop, aren’t they?

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Of course, there’s always Netflix. But might it not be nice to step away from consumerism for a change and allow ourselves to just be? So, I wish you all a pleasant weekend full of “lekker niksen”! The rat-race will resume soon enough.  

The Days of Lockdown - a tale of our times

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TOT ER NIETS MEER IS

Het idee van privatisering raakte in de Jaren 90 in zwang en breidde zich als een olievlek uit. Zo werden in Nederland bv de energiebedrijven ‘geliberaliseerd’. Dit hield in dat de bedrijven – tot dan toe in handen van gemeentes en provincies (en als zodanig een vaste inkomstenbron) – nu verkocht konden worden aan grote spelers op de internationale markt. Dat was zogenaamd goed voor de concurrentie, en dus goed voor de consument. De energie is niet goedkoper geworden en de levering niet beter, maar gemeentes hebben nu wel structureel minder geld te besteden aan hun burgers.  

In 2006 werd het ziekenfonds afgeschaft en sloeg het privatiseringsvirus ook toe in de zorg. Ziekenhuizen mochten winst gaan maken voor hun aandeelhouders - geld stroomt dan letterlijk weg uit de zorg en wordt daar niet in geherinvesteerd. Vanaf 2014 mochten ze winst uitkeren, vier jaar later waren er 14 ziekenhuizen failliet. De zorg werd er niet beter op, maar wel veel duurder. Soms moeten mensen nu wel een uur rijden voor ze bij de Eerste Hulp zijn.

Door deregulering konden banken en verzekeraars ondeugdelijke produkten en constructies verkopen (subprime mortgages), wat leidde tot de kredietcrisis van 2007/08. Een klein groepje mensen werd stinkend rijk, maar toen vielen de banken om (hoewel veel bankiers er nog met een zak van soms honderden miljoenen vandoor gingen). De burger moest de banken overeind houden, dus er werd zwaar bezuinigd op cultuur en welzijn.

 

In 2013 werd de ‘participatiesamenleving’ geintroduceerd. Allerlei taken werden afgewenteld naar gemeenten, die daar echter ook nog eens minder geld voor kregen. Met als gevolg: drama’s in de jeugdzorg, het toenemen van het aantal daklozen, verdwijnen van bibliotheken, gymzalen en buurthuizen, die zo belangrijk zijn voor de sociale cohesie. Ook bejaardentehuizen en psychiatrische instellingen moesten dicht. 

Vervolgens moest de huizenmarkt er aan geloven, want er waren teveel 'scheefwoners' en die moesten maar eens snel een huis kopen. Natuurlijk kwam het gebrek aan sociale woningen vooral doordat woningcorporaties hun geld hadden vergokt op de aandelenmarkt en snel een hoop woningen verkochten om wat centjes binnen te slepen. Zeven jaar na de ingreep op de woningmarkt is deze nu geheel vastgelopen. Huren zijn niet meer te betalen en iets kopen kan je al helemaal vergeten. En die scheefwoners? Ja, die zitten nog steeds op hun plek, want die kunnen ook nergens ander heen.  

 

Net toen ik dacht dat er niets meer te verhapstukken viel, bleek ons pensioenstelsel een mooie prooi. Ook wel bekend als 'het beste pensioenstelsel ter wereld'. De haaien cirkelden er allang omheen en sloegen dit jaar dan eindelijk toe. En nu hebben we dus het gevreesde 'casinopensioen'. Gokken met het geld van de burger, wat wil je nog meer? 

Ondertussen is Nederland wel een belastingparadijs voor multinationals en een witwasmachine voor criminelen. De staatskas loopt miljarden mis, en juist de zwakkeren in de samenleving voelen dat. Maar het gemis van een bibliotheek raakt niet alleen de armen, net zo min als het verdwijnen van kunst en cultuur, van sociale zekerheid. Het raakt iedereen. 

 

Al meer dan 20 jaar ligt Nederland in de uitverkoop. Bossen en parken worden omgehakt, de bio-industrie groeit uit tot walgelijke proporties, chemisch afval wordt 'verwerkt' door het gewoon te dumpen, de kwaliteit van grond, lucht en water rennen achteruit – alles voor de BV Nederland. Dat zijn bewuste politieke keuzes. Sommigen klagen dat de samenleving verhardt. Maar wat wil je als mensen elkaar niets meer gunnen, als het een dog-eat-dog survival-of-the-fittest slag wordt? En toch blijven mensen stemmen op partijen die verantwoordelijk zijn voor dit soort politiek. Geven de schuld van de problemen liever aan ‘migranten’, ‘moslim terroristen’ of ‘de linkse kerk’.

UIteindelijk zal het neoliberaal kapitalisme zichzelf opeten.

Tot er niets meer is. 

 

P.S. Update 23 november 2023: Wilders wint 37 zetels en wordt de grootste. Een rechtstreeks gevolg van het bovenstaande.