Perhaps “stayed” is a bit misleading. When Melbourne first went into lockdown, I felt like shit. But, over time, I returned to my baseline life satisfaction levels, which are generally quite high. While Melbourne has been out of lockdown for a while as I write this, I appreciate many readers may be in countries that stayed in lockdown, or re-entered one, and so I hope this post can help you cope with that.
The shit period
It was Friday, 13 March 2020, and everyone at work received a text saying we’ll be working from home for at least two weeks. This was when a whole host of global and local events were being cancelled due to the virus, and the case numbers first reaching double digits in Victoria.
After ignoring the virus as someone else’s problem in other countries, my eyes were opened as I read about others’ experiences in Italy, Spain, and the U.S. It was tragic reading about Italian doctors having to decide who gets to live and die due to a lack of sufficient respirators. For the first time in my life, I felt scared for my parents, who were both in different countries.
And yet, some part of my couldn’t help but feel a childlike sense of excitement, like we’re entering the beginning of a real-life zombie movie. Being told to work from home was just the cherry on top, confirming the seriousness of the situation. But “two weeks” soon became four weeks, and by then we all knew it was more like “indefinite”. Any sense of excitement was replaced with boredom, fatigue, disappointment, and anger.
I suspended my gym membership, as well as any social activity. Any sense of structure in my life basically vanished. No walk to work, or to the gym, or back home. At least I still had work at all, and that structured my day in at least some way.
Outside of work, I tried anything and everything to keep myself busy: Xbox and PC games, online with friends and solo, 1,000-piece puzzles, online courses for Excel and similar programs. I had one lone dumbbell my partner gave me, which I combined with various no-equipment exercises I researched. Of course, heaps of Zoom calls and Houseparty-style games were played as well.
Most of these felt empty. Some, like the social virtual games, were fun the first few times, but soon wore thin. The exercise helped, but it just wasn’t the same, and I slept poorly as a result. It also didn’t help that whenever I was semi-awake ages before my alarm, I’d excitedly check the latest news about how the virus was developing in places my friends and loved ones were based in.
My energy depleted earlier and earlier every day, until I couldn’t even keep my eyes open after 8pm. Even during a gripping movie, I just couldn’t stay awake. I also experienced a whole new feeling I never felt before – disappointment in my own friends. Most of them recognised the severity of the situation and behaved accordingly, but a handful didn’t seem to care. They kept inviting me to secret hangouts. Others started well, but soon gave in to the temptations of regular social activity, making excuses for how it’s totally ok to meet for beers as long as it’s done “safely”, and “what are the chances anyway?”
I understood that it’s tough for everyone, and that to people more extroverted than myself, not physically seeing people might be even tougher. But I couldn’t help but think of the potentially deadly consequences for innocent people, which far outweighed any understanding I had. I often caught myself in thought loops, but never stopped them for long enough to free my mind.
Tl;dr version
- Shit sleep
- Less exercise (and with that, feeling less comfortable in my own body)
- Constant fatigue
- Disappointment in and irritation with friends, and people in general whenever I read the news
Above anything else on this upcoming list, one thing helped me immensely from the start:
Values-driven behaviour
As soon as I realised that changing my behaviour wasn’t just about not getting the virus, but equally about not passing it on to others, I didn’t hesitate to change my lifestyle. I knew it would be a challenge to figure out how to work out without a gym, but I didn’t let that challenge stop me from suspending my gym membership immediately (this was before gyms had to close anyway). Similarly, when the odd careless friend still invited me to secret hangouts, FOMO didn’t get the best of me, because it was simply not the right thing to do. I didn’t waste energy thinking “should I go?” or “what about the fun I’ll have?”, because my values override anything else.
Making decisions based on your values is a topic I intend to explore deeply in future posts, but its value to me in such a situation was immeasurable. By being clear about my values (don’t harm other people), choices like whether to go out (when it was still allowed) became a no-brainer. I still had all of the above challenges to figure out, but knowing I was doing what I felt was right made it that much easier to feel it was worthwhile. ANd the energy I saved on decisions could be put to good use.
So how did I take on the other ways in which I was feeling down?
- The pull-up bar
I was playing Team Fortress 2 on Discord; my friends also happened to be fitness junkies, so we were chatting about everyone’s schemed to stay fit (by this point, gyms had closed). One friend suggested something so simple, I had no idea how I didn’t figure it out myself: a pull-up bar!
Perhaps my brain ignored the idea after I had one in high school which damaged my doorways, making my parents rather unhappy. I also fell from it once. But this was a different kind, one that wraps around the whole door frame, rather than just pushing outwards. Through eBay, it was also pretty cheap!
Besides the fact that putting it together gave me something to do for a precious half hour, it was the first time in ages I could work out enough to tire myself out again! It could even be propped on the floor to guide push-ups from different angles. It didn’t quite cover all of my workout needs, but coming this far motivated me to figure out the rest.
2. Walking
As I asked around at work for other fitness solutions, I thought of another easy one myself: Going for walks. I always enjoyed walks, but through uni and the early days of work, I relied mostly on incidental walks – those walks that were necessary for me to get from A to B.
With those gone, I finally remember that, damn, walking just for its own sake can be quite fun! Besides being a nice way to explore the local area, a walk like this beautifully breaks up the day. My days were blurring into one, with each day’s hours blurring together too. But by walking a new route every day, that became a lot less extreme. It was still pretty far from normal life, but I was no longer in a pure time vortex; I made new memories of beautiful things I saw, or learning interesting new things on a podcast and remembering where I was walking at the time. Sure, there were only so many paths to follow, and I ended up repeating many, but I looked forward to each walk the same. Especially after work, it was meditative.
My walks ranged anywhere from an hour to an hour & 45 minutes (roughly 4-8kms). It’s not some magic number, it just felt like the optimal balance of tiring myself out and enjoying most of it. That way, by the time I was nearly done, I was looking forward to being home again. Whatever lazy home activities I got up to now felt earned. Without Netflix and gaming being the only way I spent my non-work time, I enjoyed them all the more too. And, perhaps most importantly, I was tiring myself out enough to improve my sleep. With better sleep, further good changes were that much easier to initiate.
The idea of walking around in public was a bit scary at first, but I soon learned that by avoiding the 5pm, after-work foot traffic rush, it was quite easy to socially distance, and I saw any twisty paths I took to avoid people as bonus miles walked and calories burned. Initially I walked away from the city, but as the lockdown got harsher, less people went to work in the city anyway, and it became a ghost town which was eerie but fun to explore. To make each walk fun and different, I kept switching it up between podcasts, music, and calling friends and family.
3. Calling people
Calling people during my walks reminded me of just how much more connected I feel to someone on a direct call, compared to group Zoom calls. While you end up having Deep & Meaningful™’s in physical group meetings as you switch among conversational partners, that just isn’t the same over Zoom. But a direct call, even without someone’s physical presence, let us talk about what we wanted, for how long we wanted, until one of us had to go or got tired. To me, I truly felt connected to people on these calls.
During another evening of watching TV, half asleep, a friend called me. I was so tired I barely felt like picking up, but I did, and we caught up for a good half hour. I don’t remember what we talked about, but I remember the conversation giving me a new lease on life that evening.
That’s when I remembered that social connection can be an amazing source of energy. Perhaps because I rarely went so long without my social needs being met, I never realised it, but I recalled my college exam times, during which I always forewent any social activity for a month or longer and got tired earlier every day as a result.
Everyone’s social needs are different, which is why it’s good to know your level. After calling different people every day, I soon discovered my ideal zone as being about two phone calls a day. Any less, and I might feel a bit low on energy. Any more, and I’d start to feel tired of social interaction, and look forward to my me time again.
This fascinated me, since social interactions pre-pandemic were never so easy to measure. Some events might bore me and tire me out, others would give me energy to last the whole night. Some people sapped my energy as I had to initiate all the conversation, others gave me energy to talk for ages. In groups, there was such a mix of both that every event was different. But knowing my level so precisely gave my life further much-needed structure during the lockdown.
4. Resistance loops & bands
I finally found the answer to my fitness gaps through a work friend, though I didn’t realise at the time how magical it would be. I ordered these bad boys, an 11-piece resistance tube set including different levels of resistance plus handles and a piece to attach it to doors or other anchors.
I knew vaguely of the existence of resistance bands before – dad used them a lot, but I always ignored them the way you ignore a homeless man on the street. No clue why, I just always considered weights the default and “only” way of working out.
But with a set of weights costing ten times as much and taking up way more space, I decided to give it a go. As I “weighted” for the package, I started looking at videos like this one, or this guy. When they arrived, I first did some video-guided exercises to discover the possibilities and ease myself into this new way of working out. Soon enough, I found ways of replicating every single one of my old weight- or machine-based exercises, but with bands.
I felt like I needed more resistance for my leg activities (combining bands wasn’t enough), so I bought me some closed-loop resistance bands, and was all set. These were a bit pricier, but with less moving parts, there’s less to break. Plus, I haven’t been to a gym since (I cancelled my membership), so the price has already more than paid off. They’re even light and easy to pack if you want to work out while travelling!
Even after easing restrictions, I use them weekly to this day. My point though is that, at the time, I finally felt like I was getting my full, normal workouts in again, and felt better about my body. With the physical exhaustion and less rumination about what will happen to my body, my sleep improved yet further.
5. Riding my bike!
Riding my bike wasn’t new to me. It’s been my preferred way of getting about since moving to Melbourne in 2017. However, like walking, it was my way of getting from A to B, places I had to go anyway. And unlike walking, I never enjoyed it. I never felt like I could relax and take in the scenery the way I could when I walk.
That all changed when the virus reached Melbourne, and I wanted to visit my partner in a way that didn’t risk catching or spreading the virus. She was over 20km away, which would usually be a 40-minute train ride plus 15-minute cycle. But I didn’t want to use public transport, and with not much else to do on the weekends, I decided to cycle the whole way. Google Maps told me it would take over 90 minutes, and I was dreading the shit out of it.
But this ride changed my relationship with cycling. Part of the reason I think I didn’t enjoy it before was that I always felt like I wanted to be at the destination as soon as possible, and by cycling fast, I was never relaxed or comfortable. With such a ridiculously long ride ahead, I decided to take it slow – listen to some music, or a podcast, or chat to mum (roads were a lot quieter at the time). Lo and behold, I enjoyed the journey! I can’t say I loved it, and every uphill section was a killer, but I took in the scenery, and didn’t even think about wanting to finally be there until I got close.
From that moment, I also realised I could change up my walks in the city. I was no longer limited to the same few routes – I now had whole new beaches and suburbs and parks to explore! I had to reign it in a bit when we went into our second lockdown, which included a limit of staying within 5km from your home (visits to romantic partners being exempt). Nonetheless, my weekends had that much more variety again, and I felt accomplished whenever I arrived at my partner’s or back home again. Plus, the naps following each long ride were life-changing.
6. Mindfulness
I heard about the benefits of mindfulness for a while at this stage, but never made it a habit. Perhaps because I never felt like I was super stressed, I didn’t feel like I had quite enough reason to get into it. But when we had to stay home all day, I incidentally became more mindful.
With nothing to look forward to, I thought about little other than the very present moment. Only then did I realise how full my head usually is with thoughts of “do this, then that as soon as I get home” or “fuck, that weekend drum ‘n bass gig can’t come soon enough!”. If it wasn’t the near future, it was things I recently experienced. But with no future events to think of, and no recent experiences to look back on, I felt like my mind was free to explore itself, and reflect.
I know many people thought about the end of the virus, but I didn’t see the point. I didn’t know when it would be over, and thinking about that would only make me depressed. Life was far from optimal, but by focusing on the now, we could make far more of it. That way, time will fly, and before you know it – hot damn, it is all over! Sure, the moment was far from exciting, but by focusing on it, I felt like I could make better decisions and do things to make me enjoy it that much more.
I know I’m in a privileged position to have enjoyed the moment, since the moment sucked for many people – those whose families and friends were genuinely sick. But for anyone physically healthy in this time, I think a focus on the moment can only be a good thing. I admittedly didn’t do much with it for a while, but halfway through our second, longer, stricter lockdown, I finally made a habit of guided meditation. I’m still new to the whole game, and will write more about it as I go deeper, but being more present felt good, so I wanted to stay present even when we leave lockdown, without constantly being bombarded with thoughts about the near future.
7. Gratitude
Realising my privilege was only the start of my foray into gratitude. It’s not that I wasn’t thankful before – I long knew I was a spoiled-ass dude. But without much else to think about, it became that much more explicit during lockdown.
For one, I remained in good health throughout the Covid era. Neither I, nor my immediate friends or family, had any major health worries, which was already a blessing.
Two, I kept my job. The timing could not have been better. I only graduated from my Masters at the end of 2019, and started my first permanent, full-time role at an Aussie tech company in January of 2020. Being a tech company, we were comfortably equipped to work from home without a hiccup. Making a statement about its values, the company also guaranteed everyone’s jobs for 12 months, minimum. That feeling of safety was what kept me going in the early days, when everything else still felt like shit. All of the awesome stuff on this list, I can probably trace back to this safety. Even though they’re not huge investments, being able to afford the stuff like resistance bands and pull-up bars is still a privilege, which I can thank this job for.
Three, I had (and still have) an amazing partner. While there were some struggles when we clashed about how to adjust to this new way of life, it felt even more amazing than otherwise to have someone I could confide everything in. And by living separately, I cherished every visit, whether to mine or the long ride to hers, and we never (ok, barely) got sick of each other.
Four, I was in a place that had beautiful scenery to discover. My walks and bike rides were made that much sweeter by living in a place like Melbourne, near parks and beaches and a river.
The list goes on. I’m not trying to show off, I know that not everyone has all of these things. But I have friends who are lucky in almost all the same ways, and yet they were miserable during lockdown. It’s not about each thing, but being thankful for what you do have – your list might look very different. Realising what you have, and drawing strength from that, makes it so much easier to act out of love and kindness, and not out of desperation or despair. And being grateful helped me help others.
Through work, I started giving more than I otherwise do, which culminated in this blog. I know I’m only at the start, and by the time you’re reading this, everyone may long be vaccinated. But I hope that the lessons help you either way, and that you become that little bit happier.
With all these things figured out, I was in a much better place. But there was still one major thing buggering at my mind.
8. Acceptance
My first bit of acceptance is similar to my point about values-driven behaviour: I was pretty ignorant until there were double-digit case numbers in Victoria. As soon as I realised that my behaviour now affects others more than ever, however, I simply accepted the new reality. It may not be what I want, but that’s the way it is, so there’s no point pretending or acting otherwise.
That helped me immensely in changing my habits all of a sudden and figuring the rest out later. But among my friends, I was on the more conservative end (at least initially), which caused me some major frustration. To me, it felt like a betrayal that they’d still keep going out with the reasoning that it’s “still allowed, so why should I change that?”
At first, I tried talking to them, explaining what I’d read and the ways their behaviour would impact other people. For some, that helped them gain a new perspective. For others, they soon caved in to their old ways. It was genuinely heartbreaking, because I’ve never been morally disappointed in my own friends before. Every conversation I attempted also sapped more of my energy, as I was scared of conflict, and had to build myself up to it. For a long time, I couldn’t help but think of the lives they were potentially endangering every time they were reckless.
Some part of me thought that their behaviour is outside my sphere of control. Whenever I thought that, it helped a bit, but the other part of me countered with the fact that, to a degree, it is in my control. Not to control their behaviour, but at least influence it by keeping on trying to convince them. When I stopped trying, I couldn’t help but feel like I could be doing more to help those people they were endangering.
After a long talk on the matter with a good friend, who was similarly careful, I finally embraced acceptance. At least I tried talking to them, and at this point the best I could do was just model good behaviour and keep doing what I’m doing. A small part of me still feels like I could, perhaps even should, have done more, but accepting that other people will behave differently finally put my busy mind to rest, and freed it up to enjoy the other things on this list.
It also helped that one of my biggest takeaways from my psychology degree was that other people always have reasons for their behaviour. Of course I understood that it’s a tough time for everyone, and they don’t have bad intent by going out. They long to see their friends, especially if they’re more extroverted than myself and get their energy from other people. To me, that’s not an excuse to not be more careful, and those reasons never outweighed the human cost for me, but with time, I accepted it. It was still a reason for their behaviour, and it was, in some sense, understandable.
This kind of acceptance is a big part of stoicism, a practical philosophy I started learning about during lockdown. It’s a subject I want to write a lot more about, because it has immense value for life satisfaction and doing good (the two go hand in hand). Learning about it and being able to apply it straight away was incredible timing, along with my friend’s advice. With this mindset, it was also that much easier to get along with those same friends again when restrictions eased and cases numbers were close to 0, without hanging on to anger that could poison the relationship.
9. Creativity
Finally, with the headspace I cleared up, I could put it so good use, so I started baking. I didn’t even think of it as being creative, but when I realised I enjoyed creating delicious monstrosities as much as I did eating them, it dawned on me how beneficial a creative outlet can be for happiness.
Baking was always something I admired when I saw others do it, and it looked fun, but I never bothered. After collecting some baking inspirations over the years (like chickpea & peanut butter-based cookies), I finally had near infinite time to try them out. I didn’t enjoy cooking at the time, but baking was different. Something about the comparative simplicity, the fact that I knew the end result would be incredible, and that every further step got the ingredients that much closer to their happy ending as a coherent whole. It was like witnessing a small miracle, except I was the creator.
Later on, I added a second creative outlet to my repertoire: Visual puns. I’d always been a fan of puns and making my girlfriend cringe. Often, the puns would involve a mental image I found hilarious, and I felt like my partner would’ve appreciated them more if she saw that mental image. After giving up on learning excel and coding and other skills I didn’t pursue because I didn’t have a need for them at the time, I finally found one I stuck with: GIMP (like Photoshop, but free). I learned the basics of image editing in school, so I always knew I enjoyed it, but only now that I had this reason to use it did I get into it more deeply.
So I took an online course, and applied what I learned to every new project of mine. Each of these puns would only take me around 10-30 minutes to complete, but I enjoyed every second of it, as well as the process of actively thinking about new puns or capturing them when they came to me more naturally. Sometimes, I’d hear someone pronounce a word in a way that sounded like a combination of other words, and I’d joyfully write the idea down, before creating something like this masterpiece:
I shared them on facebook, and while each one tended to have single-digit numbers of likes, those people told me how much they loved them, which warmed my heart. An audience is by no means necessary to reap the benefits of a creative outlet, but it was an extra push and joy for me that I was brightening others’ days, even in a small way.
Ultimately, that’s what I want to do through this blog. Near the end of the second lockdown, I was listening to an episode of one of my favourite podcasts, in which they discussed how they started with a blog. With that inspiration, plus my goal of helping people, plus my interest in psychology, fitness, philosophy, and all that contributes to happiness, I started this blog.
The timing was a bit unfortunate, because soon after I started it in October of 2020, Melbourne left lockdown and stayed near 0 cases for months, so I took a long break as my local world opened up again. But I’m glad I took the plunge before we left, and I wanted to continue for a while. I just needed to sit my ass down and make some time for it. I loved thinking of ideas and designing a logo during lockdown, and now that I’m finally writing more frequently even outside of lockdown, I’m really enjoying it for its own sake. There’s another reason it makes me happy:
10. Giving & helping others
Knowing that this blog even has the potential to help others be happier gives me an incredible drive to keep writing. I’m far from having it all figured out, but I’m a pretty happy dude in general, and being happy after an initial struggle during a pandemic, I want to share that with people.
Before I started the blog, I got more into giving throughout the pandemic. I’ve long made a habit of donating a small, monthly amount to one or two charities at a time (depending on where I was living). I mentioned that work gave me the opportunity to do this at a greater scale: I was part of a graduate association within the company, and contributing to fundraisers almost every single month became way more meaningful than my day job ever would be.
It’s hard not to sound preachy with this subject, and I don’t want to drone on about the responsibility to give (a responsibility which, for the record, I think anyone in a comfortable enough position has). But this post is about happiness, you’re not just making others happy by giving: helping others can do wonders for your own happiness. This is yet another topic worth exploring further, including the mechanics of how it makes you happier. But for now, my point is just that it does. There’s a growing body of evidence on the subject, and I can say from my experience in 2020 that it gave my life a lot of meaning.
I’m not a massive giver, and I could always give more. But it’s not about the amount – just starting somewhere, and making a habit of it, even on a tiny scale, can potentially change someone’s life. To me, that’s what life is about, and it would be a waste to not even try.
Tying it all together
In a way, living in the pandemic was like reconstructing my life from scratch, one piece at a time. As hard it it was, by breaking life down into its constituent parts, I could learn to value exactly what each part means to me, how it affects my health and happiness, and how they combine to work as a system.
While most people weren’t exactly doing great, I know I can’t be the only one who had a decent time. So, dear reader, what worked for you? How did you stay, or become, happy during the pandemic?