I am sat writing at the dining table in my flat in Kathmandu on a sunny and sweaty afternoon in June. From my big windows, I can see a middle-aged man in a red and black check shirt tending to his rooftop garden, the Buddhist flag flying just over his head. A couple of crows – birds that I’ve grown extremely fond of during lockdown – are casually hanging out on an adjacent balcony, occasionally scraping their beaks on the railing. The vivid green of the surrounding trees pops thanks to the frequent torrential downpours of late and the uncharacteristic lack of pollution (one lockdown pro).
Another man, dressed in a nude coloured tank top soaked in sweat, is relentlessly running up and down the steps leading to his house, trying to keep fit in the confines of the space available to him. An auntie dressed in a grey and red dress is clearing away things on her rooftop while watering the plants. Birds are chirping, prayer bells are ringing, and children are laughing in the nearby courtyard. All the while, faded prayer flags on the top of a tall and thin building are flapping in the wind, scattering their good wishes all over us.
I could have been anywhere in the world right now, but somehow, I wound up in Nepal – my favourite country – during the global crisis that has unfolded over the last few months. The view from my living room windows has been a source of company, consolation, and also frustration. I’ve spent hours upon hours silently observing and absorbing the unfolding scenes. It’s one of the many things I love about this place; most of life takes place outside on rooftops and in the streets, in corridors and courtyards, visible for everyone to witness. Yes, it’s been lonely, but I’m sure it would have felt much lonelier if I had been somewhere with a less open society.
A long and lonely lockdown
The lockdown may now be slowly easing, but it’s been 11 long weeks of isolation and being mostly alone within these four walls. I’ve laughed, I’ve cried, and I’ve experienced pretty much all of the main human emotions: sadness, anger, happiness, despair, hope, euphoria, doubt, uncertainty, love, joy, surprise, and fear, one appearing and giving way to another, sometimes within a matter of hours, sometimes within minutes.
I celebrated my birthday during lockdown with a 10km charity walk in my flat for mothers in need, a sense of purpose overriding any chance I had to wallow in sadness at being away from my loved ones, or in anger at the fact that life as we knew it had crumbled before our eyes within a matter of weeks.
The pandemic-induced isolation also led me to experience a new form of anxiety unfamiliar to me, one that gave me the strangest of pains, which radiated all down the upper left side of my body and led me to convince myself I had cancer.
I watched in horror when Maggie Doyne from Blink Now started sharing videos of Nepalese migrants returning from India trapped on buses in the extreme heat at the border without water and food. I felt anger at all of the world’s injustices, at my inability to be of use in a time of need. I then felt the sadness that was hidden beneath the anger. Sadness to be witnessing such inhumanity in this day and age. Sadness to see so much suffering. Sadness for all the pain in the world: both mine and that of others.
And over time, I wrestled with questions of meaning and purpose. I left Dubai last October to venture into the great unknown and to try and figure out what I wanted to do with my life. And somewhere in the midst of all that, when I had finally started to get some direction, everything fell apart.
The whole world seemingly did, and we’re now in the process of precariously putting things back together.
Trauma revisited
I realised somewhere halfway through all of this unravelling, undoing, and unlearning that the reason this whole situation felt deeply unnerving was that it reminded me so much of the difficult breakup I went through almost five years ago. The sense of the rug being yanked from beneath you, the feelings of confusion, despair, and loneliness, the belief that life won’t ever be the same again once you emerge, the lack of answers to questions you desperately need answering: Why? How? And what next?
Something I’ve learnt is that events that remind you of past trauma can be deeply triggering, even when you know they can’t ‘harm’ you in the same way that you were harmed in the past. I spent a good amount of time over the last two and half months repeatedly telling myself I’m now safe, reminding myself that this isn’t the same as my breakup. This was a walk in the park if I compare it to that pain.
I am sure this series of unfolding world events has triggered most of the world in one way or another, which is why we’re collectively grieving and deeply questioning our lives.
But what this did make me realise is how far I’ve come since that deeply painful period in my past, and how much I’ve grown from it. Most importantly, it made me understand that the relationship I have with myself is now softer and more compassionate, resembling that of a best friend and a caring parent rolled into one.
What a contrast to the self-loathing and self-criticism I have endured for the majority of my adult life. I’ve found myself regularly thinking “Gosh, I love me,” which is something that has never happened to me before. The lockdown sped up much of this process that I’ve been undergoing over the last five years and proved to me that I now know how to look after my mental health.
I was never really on my own over the last few months. I was with myself every step of the way.
Finding my way back
It’s from this space of feeling a deep connection with myself and my purpose that I realised that the world may be a confusing place right now, and yes, we might not get answers to a lot of our pressing questions any time soon, but we can still act. We can still do our bit to make our little corner of the world a bit better and brighter.
We can still respond to our inner calling and purpose.
I feel the whole world is a bit lost at the moment. After years of toxic masculinity and yang energy, we were forced by the virus into a kind of hibernation. And we’re now re-emerging into a world that’s ridden with anger, long overdue protests, and demands for a better future. All the shit has come bubbling to the surface and can no longer be hidden. I don’t think there’s any going back from this.
It needed to happen. Things have to be burned away to be replaced with better things. I have lived this, so I know.
And so, I get to the point of this post (finally, I hear you cry!). I’ve been thinking deeply about what I want to do with my life moving forward, and as part of this, I did an exercise where I wrote down all the things that put me into a state of flow. One of those things was “vulnerable/raw writing that resonates with others and helps them in some way.”
Those of you who follow me on Facebook will know that I’m very open about my life experiences, and I’m not afraid to explore topics that may seem quite sensitive. Many times, I’ve had people reach out to me to say that these musings have helped them in some way, and every time this happens, I feel a genuine sense of joy. I choose to be open about my life and the things I’ve been through because I believe that if even one person gets some relief from my words it would have been all worthwhile.
This space, moving forward
I’ve realised that more than anything I love connecting with people through words.
This realisation along with the fact I feel there’s a real shift happening in the world at the moment has made me decide to relaunch this blog with a slightly new scope. I have always believed that by constantly healing ourselves we’re better able to show up in the world the way we wish to, and that’s what I want this little space to focus on.
It’s all about being kinder to ourselves, and then, in turn, being kinder to others and kinder to the environment.
In this spirit, I’m now going to cover a little bit of everything. Head Bloom will remain true to its roots of being a blog with a mental health focus, but I don’t want to restrict myself. I want to write about things that are close to my heart and that I feel can help us to show up better in the world. I will slowly be updating the blog to reflect this new direction.
So, you can expect:
- More personal first-person posts, very similar to the updates I post on Facebook (eventually, I want to open the floor to posts from others, too)
- A spotlight on sustainable and ethical businesses
- Yoga and meditation (this will eventually include classes, how-to guides, trauma-informed practices etc.)
- Sustainable and ethical travel inspiration (when the world reopens)
- A look at sustainability, equality and other social issues
- Posts on Nepal (of course)!
By looking after our mental health, I feel we’re better equipped to make better choices in our lives. I want this to be a space where people can come and hopefully feel inspired to look after themselves better.
I may still not know where I’m headed, but I do want this blog to become part of that journey. I hope you can all join me for the ride.
