It’s lockdown again, and we’re all left wondering exactly how to deal with it.

The ancient and wise philosophy ‘don’t sweat the small stuff’ holds that we should avoid getting stressed out about unimportant things, and instead focus on the bigger picture.

But this year, I don’t need that kind of attitude in my life.

The pandemic is the big picture. Boris is the big picture. The American election is the big picture (although at least that one hasn’t turned out as bad as it could have done).

Nobody can plan their Christmas, never mind their next year. We’re in lockdown again, so every day is exactly the same and yet somehow contains a fresh horror – if the news isn’t telling us something new and awful, our own brains take up the gauntlet: you’ll never see your family again. You’ll never see the inside of a pub again. You’re going to become one with the sofa. Your career will never come to anything because there is no future. You’ve run out of snacks. There is no point to existence. Also, remember that really awkward thing you did on the last day of work? That’s how all your colleagues will remember you. 

We’re supposed to ask ourselves ‘will this matter in a year?’ to discern between what we should spend time on and what we shouldn’t. Usually, this is a pretty simple question to answer, but this year – who fucking knows?

No one has a clue. What will the world be like by then?

Can we make plans? Will we somehow jinx the vaccine if we risk planning a wedding or agreeing to a holiday? Is there any point making plans anyway, or will society as we know it have collapsed entirely, leaving us all cackling maniacally over our latest batches of banana bread as the world burns around us?

“First of all, my parents live in Ohio – I live in the moment.”

The everlasting wisdom of Ted Mosby (yes, Ted is a whiney nightmare, I know)

We’re always hearing that we should ‘live in the moment’ (read that in a grating American accent and/or in the voice of a white boy with dreads). Despite it being true, we drench the phrase in sarcasm, ignore those who say it, and ruthlessly unfollow anyone who uses it on Instagram.

But right now, seriously – don’t think ahead. Don’t worry about next week. Don’t worry about your career. 

I wouldn’t even risk worrying about this afternoon.  

As eye-rollingly tiresome as the phrase ‘live in the moment’ is, it’s pretty much all we can sensibly do right now. 

Am I advocating unhealthily suppressing sadness and existential dread? Perhaps. Consult your therapist about my advice. But personally, I will no longer make the mistake of falling down the existential rabbit hole by thinking too deeply. The rabbit hole must be avoided at all costs.

I will no longer tell myself not to sweat the small stuff, because sweating the small stuff is exactly how you keep the big scary thoughts out. 

I will cry over spilt milk, and so should you. You should spend an hour taking 300 different pictures of the same cool leaf until it’s just right. You should be mad that your books aren’t perfectly organised by colour. It is a top priority that the entire house is dusted right away.

One day, looking forward to the future and making plans will no longer be a fool’s game – but today is not that day. So just get another snack, make some more tea, and watch another terrible film, like a grown-up.