We saw it coming but it was still a shock.
After watching other countries succumb to the novel coronavirus, the UK finally went into lockdown on 23 March. I still had some
work to finish so was kept busy for the first two weeks. Suddenly it seemed as
though the country had shut down, everyone was putting their feet up and I
wasn’t getting a chance to join the party.
Then my work run out and I had permission to press the stop
button, which I did and promptly went into a deep coma. I was exhausted.
I’m normally pretty motivated. I’m not a procrastinator. And
yet suddenly I found myself sitting on the sofa in my PJs at 10am staring out
at our beautiful view with some programme spewing Corona facts at me from the
TV.
Sunshine at last
This was not some deep depression. I was enjoying every
minute of it. As a bonus, the sun was shining after many weeks of rain. I could
have been on holiday in the Med (well, technically speaking I couldn’t but that
was how it felt).
Now, I’m not someone
who has to be constantly busy, takes on too much work and too many other things
and is permanently exhausted. I don’t deal with stress very well so I keep my
activities to a minimum, enjoy a glass of wine after a long day and lose myself
in home improvement programmes on the TV.
So why was I so tired?
Quite apart from the emotional stress of the situation that
was unfolding worldwide, I realised that even with keeping everything to a
minimum, my life had still been pretty busy. I wasn’t in a high-powered job with
constant travelling or setting myself ambitious mental of physical challenges
but I had reached the limit of my own mental and physical load.
When running a business you don’t often switch off. I was still
checking my emails and reading social media posts in the evenings. Twitter,
Facebook and Instagram don’t close at 5pm and there were interesting
opportunities to be found, information to read and, after a day at the
computer, it was nice to interact with colleagues. I may even have posted the
occasional photo of my grandchildren.
Speaking of which, we were responsible for their childcare
on a Wednesday, though sometimes with a sleepover which meant a full 24 hours.
Then there was the 20-mile round trips to do a nursery drop off and pick up, trips
to the beach or park with lots of physical activity, not to mention the three
flights of stairs we all had to climb back up to the flat.
My grandson was two and my granddaughter four although, as
she recently reminded her grandad on a FaceTime session, she has since turned
five (Don’t call me sweetie, Grandad, I’m five now). While they are adorable, childcare was physically demanding.
After I dropped them off I would pour myself a glass of
wine, settle down to watch the TV and promptly fall asleep. The next morning I would
drag myself from my bed to attend a yoga class before launching myself back
into work.
On Saturdays I went to Glasgow to visit my mum. Although I
took the train and didn’t do much when I got there, I still didn’t get home
till nearly 7pm.
Sunday was my day of rest, unless I was catching up with
some work to allow me to take the following Wednesday off for childcare.
So my weeks were pretty busy (for me) and, on reflection, I
was only really taking about two weeks holiday a year, including bank holidays.
One week was sacrosanct; my solo trip to visit friends in France during which
we did very little apart from visiting a few local places and eating and drinking
plenty of wine and champagne.
But what about all those lovely places I travelled to for
conferences and workshops? After all, I sometimes tagged on a day for
sightseeing. But they often involved two days travel and, much as I enjoyed
them, the mental load was quite considerable and the noise of 200+ people in
one place after a silent office was sometimes deafening.
If you think that for a positive person this all sounds very
negative, you’d be right. Truth be told, I felt as though I had entered a new
phase of my life and the one I had just left behind didn’t sound very appealing
any more.
Add to this the fact I turned 60 during lockdown and I
simply longed for retirement. I imagined being able to switch off and stop
worrying about where my next month’s money, next translation and next client
were going to come from. And waking up in the morning with the full day ahead
of me to do everything I had been longing to do for years.
Apart from the fact I had to cancel a holiday and lots of
subsequent birthday celebrations, the day itself was lovely with messages, nice
food and drink and a virtual Zoom party with some friends.
Birthday bubbles
The next day it was back down to earth. By now I was not
feeling so much tired but overwhelmed.
Everywhere I was being reminded we might not get this time
again so I needed to make the most of it. There was
- cleaning to be done,
- so much free CPD material online and reading I needed to catch up on,
- so many online exercise options,
- so many films and TV programmes to watch,
- so much cooking I wanted to do (not least to work my way through all the exotic ingredients I’d filled my cupboards with over the years)
n
On the first day of lockdown I read a useful article on
Twitter posted by an academic who had lived in war-torn countries warning
people to stop. To give up the idea of writing that article you’ve been meaning
to write, of becoming the best home-school teacher in the country, of throwing
yourself headlong into marketing as soon as work dries up. To simply stop and
give yourself time to adjust. I took these wise words on board.
Fast forward a month and I’m pretty glad I did. I now feel
as though I’m waking up from my coma, picking up a few books from the bedside
table, watching webinars and starting to think about what I’ll actually do when
I do get out of bed, metaphorically-speaking of course.
But there’s still that nagging uncertainty. How can I possibly
plan ahead?
I’ve accepted that I might not be able to make big plans but
that doesn’t mean I should sit back and do nothing. I’ve had my rest and
recuperation so it’s time to pick up speed again but I won’t be going from 0 to
60 anytime soon. We’re in this for the long haul so I want to take it slowly
and follow my instincts.
The one challenge I did set myself was to do one meaningful
thing each day. During the week this can be watching a webinar, answering
emails, writing something or sorting out files which should have been thrown
out years ago. At weekends this is cooking something, cleaning something I
haven’t cleaned for a while, tidying cupboards and – coming soon – I’m going to
paint my office. I’m not 100% strict with this. Yesterday (a Thursday) I didn’t
feel like doing anything work-related so I rearranged my kitchen.
This is how I’ve been structuring my days and, although I
feel I’m still pretty much in holiday/retirement mode, a Twitter conversation this
morning led me to reflect on what I have actually done and I was quite
surprised. I’ve done a lot without realising it because the reality is that my
work has ground to a halt and I’ve more time than I’ve ever had at my disposal.
So what have I done?
- I’ve attended a 5-day virtual conference (BP20) and add-on event
- I’ve finally put the finishing touches to my website revamp
- I’ve watched weekly French wine webinars
- I’ve written an article
- I’ve worked on a committee handover
- I’ve finished reading my backlog of Decanter magazines
- I’ve renewed my subscription to Marie France magazine
- I’ve sorted out my finances and pension
- I’ve read as much as I can about the Covid situation in my specialist areas
- I’ve cleaned cupboards
- I've switched energy supplier
- I’ve totally rearranged my kitchen
- I’ve made a face mask
- And finally I’ve done a lot of thinking.
Some of these are small achievements and not all are
business-related but they’re still very important to me. After I rearranged my
kitchen yesterday it felt like I was cooking in a brand-new kitchen with so
much space. And the bonus? I realised I’d not only cleared space in my cupboards,
I’d cleared space in my head.
Clear kitchen, clear head
If you look back on the past few weeks you too will probably
realise that you’ve achieved more than you realised. Even if it is keeping a
sourdough starter alive or not murdering your children or partner.
I took a similar step back about ten years ago when I was
feeling totally overwhelmed by agency work, increasingly tight deadlines and
falling rates. When I did, I realised I had done quite a bit to form the basis
of a move into a specialisation and towards better clients. Writing this has
taken me back to the presentation I gave at the ITI conference in Newcastle,
the message of which was that you can always do small things to move your
business forward if the time’s not right for big investment.
Last on my list was thinking. I’m not one to jump into
things with two feet at the best of times so, true to form, I’ve decided to
take a step back, analyse the situation and think about how I might move
forward. I’m lucky that the UK government is providing the self-employed with
some financial support that will give me breathing space to think about the
future.
There are so many uncertainties, especially because I work for
a lot of small direct clients. Will my clients survive the crisis? If they do
survive will they continue to export? For some of them their income will have
taken a hit and perhaps even stopped completely. How long will it be before
they have a budget for translation again?
I’ve made it my mission to find out as much as I can about
how Covid has affected their industries and think about how I can fit into
their future. If theatre companies can’t perform live, will they go online and find
themselves in front of international audiences? If they do, will they require
translations? The food and drink industry has benefited hugely from off-trade
sales (takeaways and deliveries) but that has mainly been local. Now they’ve
tested the water locally will they be tempted to ship to new
English-speaking markets?
Attending the virtual BP20 conference also played its part. For
half a day for four days I was ‘thinking business’ again. There were sessions
by Chris Durban, Tony Parr and Ros Schwartz about things we could do during a
lull in business. And Sarah Silva’s talk on fearless follow-up was a useful
reminder that we really do need to follow-up quotes and contacts, sometimes up
to six times. Most of us would feel uncomfortable doing this but Sarah gave us
compelling reasons for why, if done properly, it didn’t constitute harassment.
Everyone’s situation is different and none of us have
experienced anything like Covid-19 before. It’s stressful in many ways but if
you do find yourself with more time on your hands just now maybe a few baby
steps will help keep your business on track for when the economic situation becomes
clearer? Or – the opposite extreme – if
your normally silent house is packed with kids and partners trying to work and
home school, it might be reassuring to know that not everyone is making
sourdough, doing five exercise classes a day and marketing like mad to snare
new clients.
