Tis a season of ?
In our isolation, we must remember that in many ways we’re all in this together.
Spring has sprung but what of us. Coronavirus has wiped clean our calendars, confined us to our homes (if we’re smart and able), and given us pause to consider how best to use a lot of time on our hands.
Photo by Domen Mirtiu010d Dolenec on Pexels.com
I was planning to make this week’s post about my attempts at meditation, which is still a good idea in light of the times. But for now I choose to just take a step back and consider how very lucky I am. I count these blessings:
My cupboards are well stocked with food, water and, yes, toilet paper. No need to overstock or, for goodness sake, hoard. My husband and I are healthy to date and hopefully will stay that way. So is my immediate family. One daughter and her family are sequestered in their home 20 miles away. Another daughter and grandson are staying put in their home in California which gives me some concern but they seem to be handling it well thus far.
We live in a very small town in rural Nebraska. While not immune to this virus rage, we’re not surrounded by thousands of people. Our little community bank has locked the front door but continues to serve customers through the drive-up window. Thank goodness for mobile banking.
My husband goes to work at the Bank everyday so his daily routine remains pretty much the same. Mine, too, actually. Routine can be a form of relief in times such as these. Here’s what mine looks like.
First thing in the morning is exercise which could be yoga, tai chi, the treadmill or a body crunching video. If it’s less than an hour, I plan for an outdoor walk later in the day. I like a tidy home, so there is always cleaning to do. Obviously, I spend some time writing on my blog, as many others are doing, offering thoughts, opinions and suggestions for dealing with the current situation.
Another quilt block might beckon me to my sewing machine, and I reach for every opportunity to play my newly-acquired grand piano. Sewing, cooking, reading, cleaning — well, it seems I have plenty to do. Music calms the soul.
Two of my Lenten Bible studies have been cancelled, but I continue with one online. Same for Masses at our “cathedral on the prairie,” but there are opportunities for online as well.
And nothing gives me peace like stopping in at the church during my walk to say a quick pray or say a rosary.
All of that and more is why I consider myself so fortunate and remind myself that is not the case for many others. A short clip on a Lenten website gave me pause to consider my sphere of influence. As our world collapses, what can I do for others even from the confines of my own home. A simple phone call might help — to an elderly aunt in Washington state who resides in an assisted living or the widower down the street, home bound and slowly losing his eyesight. I can reach out to friends and neighbors near and far, remind them I’m thinking of them.
In our isolation we must remember that in many ways we are all in this together. Even from afar we can connect, support and love. Yes, love. When times are tough, it’s easy to criticize and complain, but to what end does it serve. Love may be nothing more than accepting what is. By another name it might be meditation, mindfulness or simple silence. In all its forms, it can be powerful.
This too shall pass and may we learn, gain and love through it.
Namaste