We can't escape...

Being Human

“…This being human is a series of

blindnesses that come and go.

But we can outlive our mistakes,

for the mysterious river is always

near and greater than our thirst.”

Mark Nepo (excerpted from “Knowing, Drinking, and Seeking,” The Way Under the Way)

          We are struggling through the sixth week of isolation and social distancing here in the US. Most of us look like sheep left too long out to pasture, and we’re eating and drinking too much. We glom onto each of our zoom partners like lichen on a tree limb, and never want to hang up the phone. We’ll even talk to robots these days. Most people have stopped watching the daily briefings of the task force because it’s so embarrassing to see the president babbling about flushing our bodies out with disinfectant and shining light into our innards. It’s terrifying to know that some of his devotees will probably try both.

          We’re conversation-starved and transportation-deficient, but most of us are hanging in there with the guidelines, and saying that we will not do it differently even if our governors decide to open all the tattoo parlors and beauty shops. For all the frustration and boredom, we know that staying home and wearing a mask when we must go out is, in fact, the wisest choice. I don’t want to minimize the hardship for many, many people who are out of work and don’t have a back-up. We must help each other as much as we can. And, I can’t even imagine what it’s like to be a healthcare worker anywhere at this time. God bless them all.

          Hopefully, most of us will outlive our mistakes. When I think about it, I’ve already outlived a whole lifetime of mistakes, and I’ll bet you have, too. One of the good outcomes of this period of isolation is that we are learning how to live without constant stimulation. We are learning that an hour or so of solitude will not kill us or drive us mad. Some of us have found that we can create new routines that are actually more satisfying than our old ones, and when the silence becomes too oppressive, we have to option of calling a friend and having a mini-meltdown.

          I hope today you find a creative way of getting on with your life. It’s a good time to plant a garden, journal about your response to the isolation, turn off the television and listen to the symphony of birds. Take a long walk and breathe the clean air. This is what it feels like to be with yourself—to “drink from the mysterious river that is always near.” It’s really not bad at all.

                                                  In the Spirit,

                                                  Jane