I Went Grocery Shopping Today...
/Each day seems to present a new world to me and this morning I found it overwhelming.
As a single woman, you don’t generally need to talk to or have to consider anyone else when you’re choosing what to buy at the grocery store. You just roll in, grab what you need, add a few impulse buys (because who doesn’t love 2 for the price of 1 on anything) and out you go.
This morning was a very different experience, starting with restricted timeframes. I support the restrictions; I want the elderly and people with disability to be able to shop and not feel panicked or miss out on important necessities. I don’t like that they have to do it at 7am and I don’t like that the supermarkets have to place restrictions at all because we seem to have lost our ability to share.
I showed up at 7:45am and was the 7th person in line at the door. I had already driven past a line of about 20 at one of the other doors so I knew it was going to be a challenging morning. Everyone patiently waited as we watched pensioners and people with disabilities enter and exit peacefully. I was inspired by the fact that no one seem to be leaving with giant trolley loads. They seemed to only be leaving with what they needed. This gave me hope.
As I waited in line and the seconds ticked closer to 8am, I felt a certain energy begin to swirl around me. I started to run over and over in my head what I needed and found myself making a plan “Meat and bread first, then tinned stuff and if there’s anything left, veggies” This was the start of my out of body experience.
Surprised at my thought patterns, I began to remind myself that there is plenty to go around and even if I didn’t get everything on my list, it was going to be ok. But I couldn’t deny the anxiety that was rising within.
8am ticked over and we were allowed to enter. Everyone walked in calmly, some thanking the person on the door that had been checking people’s ID’s and I thought that maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad. I grabbed a trolley and began my stroll around the store. For the most part people were pleasant. But as my time progressed, more and more people filtered in, rushing past each other, moving trolleys so they could get past, no patience to wait.
The moment I felt most unlike myself was when I started to put things in my trolley I wouldn’t normally buy or didn’t really need but grabbed anyway. One part of my brain was going “You don’t need a litre of vegetable stock – you have some in the cupboard” and then the other side would go “But it would be good for soups and you might need to make more soup!” I bought bread (I never buy bread) I bought a jar of pesto (I have one in the fridge) I bought pasta (I never buy pasta) I bought more tuna (I have a few tins in the cupboard already).
The most surprising thing I bought was a jar of peanut butter and a jar of honey because I thought I could have peanut butter and honey sandwiches. I haven’t eaten one of those since I was a kid but with all the chaos swirling around me, I found myself seeking out and reaching for anything that felt familiar. That felt safe. That felt normal.
As I wandered aisle after aisle, I heard the most interesting things. Someone humming to themselves as they pondered what tins they should buy. Someone clucking their tongue, perusing the butters. Both had nervous energy about what they were doing. It’s funny the physical things we do to cope with the fear that surrounds us.
The most confronting thing I found, were the judgemental looks people would throw my way when they glanced at what was in my trolley. I had intentionally tried not to buy more than my single self needed, but just by putting tins of anything in your trolley seemed to draw looks from people, glances that made you feel like maybe you should put everything you had picked up back because you were selfish. Not everyone was like this, but some were.
As I walked around, I purposely let people go before me. Not because I was being a good Samaritan, but because I needed to remind myself that there was enough for everyone. That just because we were in interesting times it didn’t mean that manners were obsolete or unnecessary. It didn’t mean that I should forget to love my neighbour as Christ calls me to. If I missed out on some thing then that was fine. I was fine. It is going to be fine.
After I had finished shopping there, I went to another store because I needed something specific that I knew only they would stock. And at this store I found myself buying things I had already bought!?!?! Who am I!?!?! I’m not a hoarder but I’m displaying hoarding behaviours! I was so shocked at myself but equally shocked that I wasn’t shocked enough to put something back! (yes, I realise I just used shock three times in a sentence, but I really was shocked. Make that 5 now.) I left feeling terrible.
By the time I got home I was ready to burst into tears. I didn’t go overboard in what I had purchased. Some of what I had picked up is contributing to a hamper for some disadvantage teenagers who are unable to provide for themselves right now. When my flatmate asked how I went I told her I couldn’t talk about it and promptly burst into tears. I couldn’t hold them back any longer.
It wasn’t that the shopping centre was a terrible experience. It wasn’t that I had felt judged for my purchases. It wasn’t that I had bought things I wouldn’t normally buy.
It was that with everything that is going on, the fear, the worry, the anxiety, the hoarding mentality, I felt so alone.
This feeling is amplified by the fact my flatmate is moving to country NSW today which means for the length of this pandemic I will have to navigate it alone.
I have family and I have friends. But it’s different when you are living by yourself.
Who do you talk to when you’re trying to figure out if you should stock up on tinned goods? Who do you talk to when you’re running low on toilet paper but don’t have time to get to the shops early enough to pick some up? Who do you spend your social isolation days with, binge watching Netflix and keeping each other company?
My biggest concern at the moment is not Corona virus. If I get it, I will ride it out and I will recover, and I will be fine. I’m lucky to experience this pandemic at an age where I am not high risk. No, my biggest concern is who will I ride this out with?
I know I have God. I know he is present and despite the fact he and I haven’t been on good terms this past couple of weeks for an related reason, I know that I have him to rely on and his Spirit brings peace to my soul. But what God fails to have in this moment is a body to curl up to when life seems a little bit too much.
I read an article on the Consumed website recently titled:
“Stress and The Social Self: How Relationships Affect Our Immune System”
Definitely worth a read but the main gist of the article was the power our relationships have on our immune system. All our physical experiences in relationships – your mum’s cuddle, your dad’s lap, your friends arm around your shoulders – are ingrained in our minds and are readily available for us to draw upon when we need to feel safe or secure. The physicality of relationships is just as important as the emotional aspect.
So what happens when physically you don’t have support? The power of touch, of having someone there to hold you and tell you it’s going to be ok is what can keep us going. Keep us strong. Keep us sane.
With the reality of social isolation upon us, how does a single person feel physically supported? Who do they curl up to at night when the news is reporting how many more people have died from the virus?
I guess I’ll find out in the coming weeks and months ahead…
How can we hold the tension of the ‘now’ and ‘not yet’?
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