Isolation Journal: Week 8 -Abundant Craziness
As for me and my house
We will stay where we at.
– 1st Isolations 24:7
(From SistasinZion on Facebook)
I have no idea what to write at this point. I don’t think this week will go down as a wise, measured, or well-reasoned one in U.S. history (to put it mildly). No one in the country seems to really have a good plan – though I know some very good people are trying to give us one (and then another, and another). This response to the pandemic is an experiment through and through. Conspiracy theories abound.
Unfortunately, the seeds of deep division in our country – political, racial, economic, gender-related, spiritual – have grown into a thick jungle of thorny weeds. The only response to this mire seems to be wild flailing whacks with a machete.
Any plan is upsetting to one group or the other. Racial hatred is again in the news the past few days with vivid and disturbing tragedy. Our national leader seeks to divide rather than unite and to fan the flames of hatred with every tweet. Behind the scenes ugly values are undoing the foundations of justice at a rapid pace (there does seem to be a plan in place in this area). Ugh.
Some U.S. states are making gradual returns to “normal” by allowing parts of the workforce to return. Some are opening restaurants, beaches, churches, others are still banning such gatherings. Angry people are refusing to wear a mask as a political “right” to liberty, and armed, masked (white) protesters have taken to various capitols to protest stay-at-home orders with very few consequences. Ugh again.
Here’s a mildly amusing reality. The good and bored and winter-worn folk in Minnesota plan to hold the well-beloved Fishing Opener (a huge state-wide annual weekend event) this weekend (while schools are still closed and shelter in place orders remain). The governor cancelled the “Governor’s Opener” but most everything else is still in place. Let’s see…pickup trucks and SUV’s hauling boats to lakes and resorts all over the state (resorts whose rental cabins are still closed). Only family groups in each boat (in theory) and round-trip is supposed to use only one tank of gas. Uh huh. In theory also, everyone will be socially distanced as they back their boats into the water at the few boat launches on each lake. Social distancing (and masks?) also when they buy fishing licenses, purchase munchies, bait, and so on. Okay. Then add massive quantities of beer and socially starved individuals to the scenario. No doubt this is going to go smoothly. Ditto in Wisconsin. What could possibly go wrong?
Okay, now, where in the world is the Sacred in the midst of these amusing, wacky, disturbing, and seriously menacing realities? Whew. Luckily, the answer is still: Everywhere.
This week, though, I need to step waaaaaaaaay back from social media and news to see this. Each morning, I have started my day with coffee on the patio as the songs of various birds serenade and Nature goes about her business. Today, a small red bird fluttered overhead, a jack rabbit ran by and two coyotes cleared out the brush as they cruised through in search of a morning snack.
Joy this week has been found in natural beauty, humor, friendship, music, Minecraft with my granddaughter, occasional texts from my daughters and friends, video chat with my sisters and sharing the occasional tasty morsel of food. (Yes, one more Chipotle order.) I am still “casting the Net of Light” each morning and night – sending love and light to friends and family near and far, to people who are hurting, to creation, to life.
What ways are you finding to support your soul? What contributions to the world’s light, peace, and love have you been making? Sometimes, the only answer we can come up with is that we’re doing our best to take care of ourselves and to not carry illness to our neighbors. If so, I believe that our best is all that is required.
This week, I’m going to try to incorporate Thich Nhat Hanh’s advice on how to cope with things (especially people) who drive you crazy. He writes, “When you plant lettuce, if it does not grow well, you don’t blame the lettuce. You look for reasons it is not doing well. It may need fertilizer, or more water, or less sun. You never blame the lettuce. Yet if we have problems with our friends or family, we blame the other person. But if we know how to take care of them, they will grow well, like the lettuce. Blaming has no positive effect at all, nor does trying to persuade using reason and argument. That is my experience. No blame, no reasoning, no argument, just understanding. If you understand, and you show that you understand, you can love, and the situation will change.”
God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
courage to change the things I can
and wisdom to know the difference.
Love, grace, humor and blessings to you, – Karen

I am in a religious-y mood today, which probably makes sense. In two days it will be Palm Sunday which marks the beginning of Holy Week, the most solemn week in the Christian tradition. Passover begins next Wednesday – the Jewish celebration of the Exodus from slavery in Egypt and God’s sparing of the children of Israel from a deadly plague. It is a religious-y time. Undoubtedly, much will be made of the experience of suffering and the ultimately hopeful messages in these traditions in the week to come and parallels to our current situation will be drawn.
Most of this week has been quiet, with moments of true contentment in our sweet little life. We putter around, we clean and cook, we chat, we go for our walk. We had one joyful delivery of food and one mildly frustrating delivery (the frustration lies in the lack of control over things). Spring – nearly summer here in Arizona – brings beauty and new life. John and I are also celebrating 10 years of being back in contact with each other in just over a week – a reunion for which we are grateful each day.
Oddly, I think part of it is also that my birthday is coming up, too. In adulthood, I have often had an emotional “dip” around my birthday. I don’t think I’m sad about getting older at birthday time. It feels like a grief about how life and gifts and things aren’t able to soothe the soul. Grief that stuff like food, presents, activities don’t deliver joy or healing.
Last Sunday, I “attended” two full and one partial live-streamed worship. One was more technically successful than the others (must have had someone onboard who knew how to piece these things together – music, written prayers, speaker). The others, as many people discovered, had issues due to the internet capacity on Zoom and FaceBook livestream having overload issues. But they got their points across – their love and care – and all was done with isolation protocols intact.
More Minecraft with my granddaughter (mostly cheerful, but challenging one day – virtually pelting grandma with glass potion bottles) – pretty much like “real” playtime (LOL)
We’ve now made it to the two-week mark from when we visited my sister. I’m relieved that none of us are having any illness symptoms – so it looks like we weren’t carriers as we thoughtlessly traveled and ignorantly left germs in our wake.
We brazenly went out to meals, shopped for groceries, etc. I had been very virus-conscious on the airplane – bringing wipes and precious hand sanitizer for our seats and trays – but once I got to my sister’s I didn’t really protect her from us. At the airport, I had wiped down our table for lunch, in the Northland, we didn’t do that. We hugged. We used my sister’s guest restroom, slept in their guest bedroom, sat at their table. I realized in hindsight that I did strip my sheets when we left and set them in her laundry room…but probably should have put them in the washer on “hot” and gotten them going. I wiped down the bathroom sink with a paper towel, but that’s it. I should have disinfected with my famous wipes. Ugh. Pandemic hindsight. My brother-in-law is in his eighties and has diabetes – so we were not thinking this all through yet – we should have been more careful.
We came up with the somewhat brilliant plan that we could all head to Arizona (on cheap fares), where we live, for a week or two – on spring break. The kids could play in the sun, splash in the hot tub, etc. That was the fledgling plan when we went to bed, but by morning we had all read some sobering math and articles on the exponential spread of the virus. We weren’t going to unnecessarily expose them all to travel risks. My daughter and son-in-law realized that they were staying home and that we needed to get ourselves home to Arizona. We had a nice breakfast and lunch, took a brisk walk around the campus and headed for the airport. It was a bittersweet goodbye. The kids struggled to understand why we were leaving so soon when we’d planned to be there to play for a week and a half.
My Minnesota daughter says that they are easing into a relaxed home school schedule and looking to plant some spring seeds, etc. Amazon just delivered a 6-part warrior cat series that I’m going to read and discuss with my MN granddaughter. My friend is doing something similar with her grandson.