The dilemma I know I should be thinking about the global crisis and what’s happening to those less fortunate, but I can’t get beyond panicking about my own circumstances. I’m stuck at home with four kids, two dogs, a husband whose freelance work is in free fall and my own career is on hold. I’m struggling to deal with being cooped up with young children and I’m also wondering if crimes of passion will receive more lenient sentencing as my husband and I haven’t spent this much time together since our honeymoon! I appreciate you are as new to this as the rest of us, but do you have any words of wisdom?

Mariella replies Not really! Like many of you I know I should be thinking about the bigger picture, but for us mere mortals, who aren’t aspiring to – or ever likely to receive – canonisation, it can be a struggle to see beyond our own noses at the moment.

Up close, I’m looking at a house in shambles, a grounded partner who normally spends half his life circumnavigating the globe and two bored teenagers, one of whom is still recovering from the shock of having her GCSEs cancelled, for which, like the diligent little miss she is, she’d been studying hard for the past 18 months. Her hoped-for summer of hedonism as a reward for her academic efforts had the final nail hammered in its coffin when all the festivals were cancelled – although she’s the first to admit that her issues are not even worthy of note in our current societal meltdown.

Nevertheless, being 14 and 15 and confined to home with your parents doesn’t make for a spirit of conviviality. If they are trapped in their worst nightmare, I’m living mine as I shuffle around half dressed at lunchtime having achieved neither work nor domestic goals. Appreciating that your woes are of the developed-world variety doesn’t make them seem any less onerous. This morning I got up at 7am planning to write this column and, five hours later, at midday (having just woken my offspring), I’m finally sitting down having baked, stripped the bed a week later than usual and cleaned the kitchen.

The reduction of our lives to the basics is a fast forward into the way we must live if we are to save the planet

Slipping into the new rhythm of lockdown should, in some ways, be a respite from life’s normal stresses. Yet, for most of us, there are further perils of an economic, psychological and organisational nature to keep us awake. How best to navigate it is trial and error, but I’ve found a few simple things extremely helpful.

The realisation that all the dramatic things we’re exhorted to do to save ourselves and our planet have temporarily come to pass, and that they really do seem to make a difference has lifted my spirits. Whether it’s the smog clearing over industrial cities during the shutdown, or the reduction of our daily lives to the simple basics, what we’re experiencing now is a fast-forward into the way we must live in the future.

Creating a routine of sorts seems, after enormous pushback, to have cheered all of us up, so the kids are now woken at 11am and set about a series of domestic tasks before being allowed to languish.

For my own sanity I downloaded Zoom so that I can continue exercise classes, chat with people and keep myself connected to the world. The avalanche of memes, advice, news updates and chat groups mushrooming elsewhere, I’ve found less helpful. They seem more like unnecessary flotsam and jetsam from the frenzied world beyond, than tools for achieving the zen-like calm required to navigate this world in crisis.

As for the biggest lessons, surely the first has to be how we need to reshape our whole model of living if three weeks without mass consumption can turn the global economy on its head. Identifying and endeavouring to adopt the elements of our enforced new existence that feel better than our old habits (which may die hard, but perish they must) is a productive focus. Personally, it’s been the tangible interaction with friends via online platforms that I would have scorned a month ago in favour of a short text; the coming together with neighbours who previously we barely knew to assist the more vulnerable in our community; the time to stop and chat (at a safe distance) with the person you encounter on a dog walk; and the slow settling into convivial coexistence with my husband and children after the initial friction that have been most rewarding.

Local farm shops and other cottage delivery enterprises doing amazing work keeping us in provisions give me hope for the ingenuity that will save our species. There genuinely seems to be a gentler, kinder and more caring atmosphere across the nation.

Hanging out with a friend, travelling and eating in a restaurant will all seem like incredible treats when the world swings back to “normality”, which is what they are. As for my children, at this rate they’ll be able to move into a flat of their own this summer so enhanced are their domestic skills. So, my advice… try to sit back and count your blessings and enjoy respite in the eye of the storm. It won’t be long before we are unceremoniously pushed out of this purdah and forced to deal with the reality of a bankrupt nation.

If you have a dilemma, send a brief email to mariella.frostrup@observer.co.uk. Follow her on Twitter @mariellaf1

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