With the recent restrictions which have reduced our normal movements and activities to ‘routine’, we can use this time to reflect on the fragility and preciousness of everything we have. In other words, a good time to take stock of ourselves and direct our minds to some strong free-flowing ideas of who we are. This is a time to examine our own inner worlds, allowing our imagination to pursue what we understand by this strange period that we are experiencing of waiting, this vague sense of longing and our restless processes of frustration and boredom with our indistinct guesses of what the future might bring.
We find our present sense of lethargy and lassitude in the poetry of Charles Baudelaire (1821-1867). This French poet saw the Paris of his time as a centre of isolation. In ‘Les Fleurs du Mal’ (The Flowers of Evil), he describes how crowds mean loneliness: “Multitude, Solitude!”. These terms are interchangeable for him.