

I always leave doing my tax to the 11th hour. This week I pored through the endless receipts and invoices that created a fiscal map of my pre-COVID life.
A life of planes, and taxis, Uber trips, hotels, restaurants, cafes, babysitters, school fees, music lessons, gym classes…
In just a few days this March, all that stopped.
We retreated to the safety of our homes, and the busy grind of our daily lives evaporated into stillness.
I’ll admit, as a touring comedian I found the sudden capitulation of my full and wonderful life heartbreaking. While I felt compassion for those who had contracted COVID-19 or lost a loved one and was concerned for the risk faced by the elderly and the immune compromised, part of me was sulking for my personal loss.
The massive year I had planned had smashed like a glass vase. There I was on the floor sweeping it up. All I could see were the shards, what I couldn’t see was what I was about to gain.
I couldn’t see the Phoenix that was to rise from the ashes.
I am not the same as I was before. Isolation provided me with two months of mindfulness that has changed how I see myself, and how I see my life. I won’t be doing things the same as before.
I am coming out of COVID-19 with a whole new approach to my life, from the big things to the small, everyday things.