Can we find our mojo in happy isolation?

Is it just me, or do people seem to be embracing the idea of social quarantine?

We're all a bit scared - even those who are talking the big talk on flu numbers - and we're looking for trouble on every corner.

When I was in a shop in Sydney not long ago, I sneezed. I looked up to see a man staring at me in disgust. It has taken me a few weeks to catch his drift.

The talk has turned to unheard of cancellations - shows, concerts and - oh my good golly - sporting events.

You'd think the NRL were the only ones in the grip of this thing.

Come off the field and join us mere mortals in the great toilet paper race.

The idea of coronavirus has turned into a frisbee-shaped grenade hurtled over the trenches. You never know where it might come from.

The things that are the very fabric of our communities - Anzac Day celebrations, school excursions, the list goes on and on... all withered into a memory.

But... and it's a sneaky but... there is a certain air of nirvana (small "n" - we're not talking Team Spirit here) about the place.

We can sense a pocket of time when different rules apply and we might be able to spend usually forbidden time with our own families in our own homes.

The bliss.

I'm not taking this lightly. Coronavirus is a freakish thing having a terrible impact on economies, plans, families and health.

It's just that I think we might be realising we are all running a little too fast.

Would it be so bad to slow down, even just for 14 days?

Would it be so bad to have less commitments, fewer events packed into our days, a little more time in our own backyards?

It is not so bad to realise how vulnerable we are.

We are just human beings walking about in a fragile skin. We can be brought down by something too small to see.

Where is all our technology then?

Are our iphones and Macbooks and high-performance vehicles really the be-all and end-all of everything?

This appears to be an opportunity to reconnect with the things that make us human and remember the things that matter.

It's also a time to be a bit unselfish.

My sympathies go to those who are on the front line of this latest 2020 challenge.

May you preserve good health - and may you find your own little piece of nirvana at home when this all becomes an unbelievable memory.

Marie Low is a freelance journalist based in Gunnedah.