Human BE-ing? Or Human DO-ing?
What an opportunity to find out how it is to be the former!
EVERYthing has been cancelled or postponed, right? That memorial service, the birthday party, movie night, volunteer gigs, family camp weekends, even church, f' Christ's sake!
Hunkering down, at first, seems daunting... what will we do if we two are the only ones we'll be seeing for weeks on end?
Sure there's the occasional foray out to the grocery store with its empty shelves, the chance meeting of a neighbor on the street.
Let's call it physical distance instead of social distance, shall we? So many opportunities to commune on line... if we're of a mind to do so. Just tonight, a friend started up a Zoom meet-up to play some fun word games together on-line.
I know several octa-and nonagenarians who don't go online any more, or who never have. Nothing beats an in person visit, right? A friend with cancer whom I saw last Tuesday was scheduled to have a farewell party before ending her life by doctor sanctioned cocktail at the end of the week. Trouble is the residential home where she's living won't let more than five people gather in one place, due to the virus scare, so we figured we'd stand under her balcony, singing to her before her party-pooping exit. Rains kept that from happening. Not sure what the plan is now.
Church happened today in an empty sanctuary. All who wanted to could access the service online in a series of visual and auditory YouTube segments. Echoing video of both reverends welcomed us from the pulpit, their speech bouncing off the back wall. They gave the sermon, sang a hymn, and led us in the Charge at the end. The organist played the chimes as call to worship and the postlude. One of the "Godly Play" teachers changed the felt pointer on the calendar indicating it's the third Sunday of Lent. She read a story for the kidlets. It felt like virtchurch. No donation plates were passed. No coffee and cookies were served in the family room afterwards. I feel for the folk whose social life is so wrapped up in the body of this house of worship. Not even coffee shops are open around here. We're homebound thanks to Corona.
It's been a rainy weekend. Crows swoop and play, glinting brightly in sudden sun between downpours at mid-day, then look like punctuation on back-lit clouds at sunset. Corvids include ravens and crows. These beautiful birds are not to be confused with the current Covid 19 virus which has gone viral. Such a teeny tiny critter on the planet is causing such HUGE problems for humans all over! What are we to learn from this episode? What are the possible lessons?
One: Don't dismantle the government. We may need those offices in working order one day!
Two: How calming it is to the nervous system to hunker happily at home from time to time. No agenda. No place to go. No assignments. No obligations. Nothing to fix except maybe dinner.
What was that book I started reading and never finished? What's the next chapter to write in the book I've been dawdling on getting done? When was the last time I spoke to that friend in Virginia? How long has it been since I had "tea" with a friend in Southern California? SereniTEA is a joy.
The most distressing part of this unexpected journey, for me, apart from thinking about those who don't have shelter, medical care, or regular meals, is not seeing our granddaughter. Her daddy is bad scared. He's secreted his daughter away at his house behind a locked gate and is not willing to let us see her unless we're fourteen days into isolation after being in any crowds. She is missing her mother too. Her mama started her isolation for fourteen days after the school where she teaches closed on Friday the Thirteenth. It will be one month all told that the two won't see one another. When you're teaching kindergarten, your student's faces begin to look like petrie dishes - with green rivers of snot being wiped on backs of hands. I get it. It makes sense to be tested or to self-isolate. Yet, the ex-son-in-law began isolating prematurely, I believe. Survivalist mentality gives him an adrenaline surge which may push rationality to the side. It's good to be able to use texting as a communication channel with the grandie. She seems to be surviving alright. She's taught me a lot about making stickers and avatars on the iPhone. She's got quite a sense of humor. We enjoyed being virtually in one another's company yesterday as we watched "golden hour" together via text. Gorgeous skies come with this rain!
Being in the moment is cozy.
Doing too much is draining and ultimately unproductive. I heard someone forty years ago expound on what she called the violence of over-activism. I can see her point. Maybe the take-away lesson for me with this Covid deal is to create and truly honor a sabbath... a time to do NOTHING but recharge the batteries. Take a lesson from the crows: When skies are beautiful go out and soar!
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