The very phrase 'At Home with' has become so much more resonant since Covid, says broadcaster and writer Manchán Magan. We are all "at home" so much more these day, and mostly at home with ourselves.
For me, Covid was an enormously empowering experience. I have been growing my own vegetables and trying to live sustainably for years, but it's always been against the backdrop of a relatively hectic life of fairly continuous travel – either internationally as a travel journalist, or in Ireland, making TG4 documentaries or radio programmes for RTÉ One or writing for The Irish Times.
In January of this year I announced my intention to give up flying for holidays to cut my carbon emissions. I planned instead to begin an extensive series of train journeys to explore the feasibility of train travel throughout Europe. Covid, of course, put a complete stop to that. It also stopped my Galway2020 project Sea Tamagotchi, in which I was collecting coastal terms and maritime words along the coastline of Mayo, Donegal, Galway and Sligo.
Read Manchán Magan's piece on the revelations of our past, written in conjunction with his recent TG4 documentary, DNA Caillte
While it robbed me of these experiences, the pandemic has enriched my life considerably by allowing me, at long last, to focus my full attention on my ten acres of oak wood, orchard, bee hives and vegetable beds. In March I immediately set about laying out extensive new vegetable beds and re-establishing my flock of hens. The oak trees that I planted twenty years ago were badly in need of shaping so that they can become fine specimens in another hundred years’ time. I bought a seven metre tall Japanese Hayate saw and began slowly and carefully shaping each one of these 500 beautiful trees, so that my descendants will have a woodland to be proud of.
Read Paddy Kehoe's review of Thirty Two Words for Field
I’ve never owned a television, but I’ve been savouring books in recent months. Doireann Ní Ghríofa’s A Ghost in the Throat has been haunting, Sinéad Gleeson’s Constellations has been harrowing, and Kerri Ní Dochtaraigh’s upcoming book, Thin Places, which the publisher kindly sent me an advance copy of. That has been haunting, harrowing and really inspiring - mainly just to be reminded of how the natural world can heal and soothe us all.
The yoga teacher Michael Ryan began leading a daily meditation course on YouTube during Lockdown, which finally encouraged me to start a proper meditation practise. Westmeath County Council’s wonderful work of keeping Lough Lene clean has meant that I’ve been able to have life-affirming swims in pristine surroundings every morning.
Overall, lockdown has taught me that the relentless march towards productivity and consumption that I presumed was unstoppable, is in fact frail and fragile. I realise how capable we all are of making major changes, if the safety and sustainability of society is at stake. This is amazing.
Read an extract from Thirty Two Words for Field
While all the tumult and anxiety of recent months have left people raw and vulnerable and with a desire to return to the familiar status quo; it has also made clear how unfulfilling much of that normality was. People seem to be questioning whether it’s wise to return to the self-destructive norms of the past. I certainly am.
It’s scary to imagine new futures, but thrilling too. For me, the next few years are going to be pivotal, as everyone on this island reassesses the unsustainable way of life we’ve been leading and dares to dream up new alternatives. Personally speaking, I’ve been inspired by how much guidance and insight is still contained within the Irish language of how to do that – words, phrases and expressions seem to hint at how to live in a symbiotic way with our surroundings.
Thirty-Two Words for Field by Manchán Magan is published by Gill Books, priced €19.99.
