As the cage door opens...

At some point, the cage became more of a security blanket than a prison. What had been seen primarily as a restriction has become a protection, not to be discarded lightly.

Yesterday Maggie and I both had our second vaccine.

I've been putting off thinking about it, and the implications, as much as I can. But soon decisions will have to be made and strategies created.

The future has been vague for the past 14 months. Periodic conversations have been had about what we would like to do once the restrictions have eased, but it's always been said in a kind of “one day” sort of way.

Unlike some people, who have been moving in the world throughout, or others who have been able to take advantage of the lower tier levels, we've been in one continuous Lockdown since March 2020.

We've not wanted to take any chances as Meg is in a super-high risk group, and Maggie and I both have lower, but not insignificant, health risks,

I've done a number of socially-distanced outdoor photo shoots, but have been far more focused on developing my podcast and online presence. Meanwhile, Maggie set up a workplace at home so she wouldn't have to choose between travelling the 9 miles to her studio, or abandoning her art entirely.

I've had a handful of socially-distanced garden meetings with people, where I've taken my own chair and flask of coffee, and once or twice we've had someone meet up in our garden under similar circumstances.

But that's been it for more than year.

We haven't even “bubbled” with other family members.

There have been no hugs outwith the three of us, no cafes, and no indoor visits.

In two weeks, however, we will be as fully protected as the vaccines allow. Other than a bit of common sense and following guidelines, there's nothing more we can do to "stay safe". Either we decide to live the rest of our lives as hermits, or we start to move back out into the world.

Despite all the dreams of when this might be over, it's also become scary.

For what feels like forever, we have existed in a state where we've felt if we got it wrong, the consequences could be dire. People with Down Syndrome are 10 times more likely to die if they get Covid than the rest of the population – so of course we have become fearful and risk-averse.

It's going to take time to adjust again.

There is no returning to a pre-Covid world – instead we are going to have to learn, and create, new strategies and new normals.  

But at the moment it feels like the door we have waited so long to be unlocked is finally opening, and instead of leaping out we find ourselves wanting to huddle at the back of the cage, terrified someone might stick their head in to say hello.

This photo of an old tangle of rosebay willowherb has nothing to do with the post. It just felt that after something emotionally intense a pretty picture was a nice idea...