How many a man has dated a new era in his life from the reading of a book! The book exists for us, perchance, which will explain our miracles and reveal new ones. Excerpt from WALDEN by Henry David Thoreau.
Here we are, finishing our second month of “sheltering in place with a few exceptions.” Again, in the spirit of standing alone together, I am writing from our Foxhole, not my Lighthouse as it is too far metaphorically to travel to gather my reflections. At my age and with my wife’s underlying medical condition our focus has been to organize our needs so that I do not go anywhere except once every two weeks usually around 6:30 am, masked, gloved, and armed with hand sanitizer to supplement our pantry. Even that need has been diminished by the actions of our near- by daughters and in-laws who have kindly dropped off essential stocks of TP, paper products, masks, cleaning supplies, and food. Technology has helped ease our heartache of being removed from our family and grandchildren. I thought I was a whiz with Face Time but Zoom has added a depth of allowing communication with many family members at the same time. And many are our blessings enhanced today by technology. The north shore of Massachusetts to the Hudson River Valley to Pennsylvania, south to North Carolina and even further south to Florida are the locations of many of our family members’ “shelters.”
Covid-19, a virus that has circled our world in a few short months. It apparently leaves many calling cards; fever, muscle pain, other flu like symptoms. In too many cases, pneumonia. In some instances it is in front of you and there are no symptoms. The person shedding the virus doesn’t even know he has the virus. He doesn’t feel sick. That fact has helped Covid-19 spread many thousands of miles very fast. Morbidity weighs heavier on the aged scale of life. But some young and middle age die too.
Approximately four years ago I retired. After forty five years of working too many hours, I looked forward to having the opportunity to create, write, and reflect. Many friends, colleagues and family members questioned me about not having the pace and challenges I was used to over the years. In short I think they thought I would be bored. My inspiration is a deep curiosity about, well about everything! My support is my wife and family. Why am I writing about this now after twenty two months of sharing my personal reflective journey with you in this blog? Simply this; a world wide pandemic has forced billions and millions to join me in a forced sheltering in place retirement. Now for those who are fortunate to remain healthy, those people should be able to fill their time with their work, careers, schooling, vocations, and leave their forced “retirement” as soon as the virus is no longer a threat. Well maybe not. A new normal will be a tip-toed walk to work with a mask praying the sleeping Covid beast is not woken up. If by chance it opens its diseased eyes the mask will hopefully calm it down.
Last month I shared how this world war with an invisible enemy kept me from my Lighthouse. True this month too. While in my foxhole I revisited and old acquaintance, Henry David Thoreau. In writings past I have shared how re-reading an author from younger years shines a different light of understanding in my older years.
The following is a passage from WALDEN or Life in the Woods. In the chapter titled Sounds, he writes the following; I sat in my sunny doorway from sunrise to noon, rapt in a revery, amidst the pines and hickories and sumachs, in undisturbed solitude and stillness, while the birds sang around or flitted noiseless through the house, until by the sun falling in my west window, or the noise of some traveller’s wagon on the distant highway, I was reminded of the lapse of time.
Thoreau writes further down his page the following; My days were not the days of the week, bearing the stamp of any heathen deity, nor were they minced into hours and fretted by the ticking of a clock; for I lived like the Puri Indians of whom it is said that “for yesterday, today, and tomorrow they have only one word , and they express the variety of meaning by pointing backward for yesterday, forward for tomorrow and overhead for the passing day.“
For me that is the essence of intuition gardening, losing your sense of time. Meditation….may be, reflection in solitude…. definitely. In our Foxhole we both smile as we try to remember what day it is. A repeated quandary of retirement. This Covid response of sheltering in place has not only given many of us the feeling of groundhog day but also the question of just what day is it?
Prayers to all of you who give us our groceries, who walk the beat protecting us, who fill our scripts, who care for our frail, and who tirelessly work the front lines caring and saving so many lives! Prayers to all of those who have lost their life and to their grieving families left behind.
Thank you for reading and stay safe everyone.
Mark