Springing Forward and Falling Down
“Walking is man’s best medicine.” - Hippocrates
“When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, “Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping. “ - Fred Rogers
“No matter what he does, every person on earth plays a central role in the history of the world. And normally, he doesn’t know it.” - Paulo Coelho
The weekend of Springing Forward found Ed and me in Austin for a beautiful wedding. Like all milestone events, it was an opportunity to celebrate relationships, share memories, meet new friends, hug and kiss old friends and family, laugh and weep happy tears as the darling couple was honored, toasted and celebrated with love.
Slowly at first, but inexorably, all our lives changed in the coming days and weeks. I have never seen such sweeping uncertainty, confusion, economic upheaval, media attention, political bumbling and sniping, and fear of the unknown. COVID19 has moved across the globe, invading our minds, hearts and, sadly, many of our bodies. When I began writing this evening, I had just learned of one of my friends who lives in Colorado who has COVID19. It is now about three hours later and I just received a text from another friend whose cousin, a young mother with two small children, is on her way to the ER in New York City with symptoms of the virus. In one day, within three hours, this virus is encroaching on friends and family who are important to me. These are not careless, irresponsible people who have been partying on a beach during Spring Break. The world is descending into despair. People fear a catastrophic future. All our carefully scripted goals and plans are meaningless and might as well be recorded on index cards and flung into a whirlwind. What are we to do?
Never in a million years would I presume that I have answers to navigating through this time so fraught with emotional opinions and “facts” that change sometimes from moment- to- moment. For several weeks, to wear or not wear a mask was the question. When it was determined that masks were definitely the way to go, the debate ensued concerning what type of material is appropriate, where they absolutely must be worn, how frequently they must be washed and by what method, and whether or not your mask- of - choice is interfering with proper respiration. Recently, we have been receiving conflicting advice on how to properly sanitize everything, including ourselves, that crosses the thresholds of our respective homes. No, I do not deem myself qualified to weigh in on any of these issues. God knows, I demure not from a lack of information, but from a crushing burden of verbiage that all of us have endured for weeks and weeks and weeks on end. No wonder we are all falling down after springing forward! I really do feel very much like Alice must have after falling down the rabbit hole and having her world rocked, her reality knocked askew. There is no frame of reference for what we are experiencing. There is no one to ask, “So, when you were experiencing a global pandemic, how did you cope?”
Perhaps, instead of trying to keep up with all the latest news on the virus, it would be better to spend some time living this life, using one’s intellect and emotions to reset in this weird space everybody is currently inhabiting, together and separately. Never has “together and separately” held the meaning and significance it does today.
Quarantining with Ed, with Rebecca right across the pasture, means I am alone a great deal of the time. Ed is building new horse paddocks, welding, digging, setting new water lines, planning how to rip out a rotten dock in the lake, and collapsing into bed tired, but happy. Rebecca is taking care of horses, dogs and supervising a building project to cover her arena. Becca and I feed horses together, walk together (6 feet apart) several times a day, and figure out what she wants to sing accompanied by me. I am cooking, cleaning, walking, writing, reading, walking, talking to family and friends, walking, playing my guitar, and walking.
Walking is my therapy. Walking is my meditation and prayer time. Walking is my thinking time. Walking is my time to completely turn off my brain and flood my senses with my surroundings. Walking is my problem- solving time. Walking is my time to run away from my worries. Walking with my friends is my favorite. Walking alone is the best. Walking is when I am the happiest. Walking with tears streaming down my face is not uncommon. Walking wears me completely out. Walking refreshes and energizes me. Walking leads me back, every time, to God.
I was walking and thinking today about a shift I detect that is a direct result of the virus and quarantine. The distraction and entertainment of sports, concerts, public celebrations and gatherings of all kinds are not available right now. We are battening down the hatches and concentrating on taking care of each other and ourselves. We are looking for the helpers, as Fred Rogers’s mother told him he should do in scary times. The helpers are not ball players, movie actors or pop culture icons. The helpers are first responders, long- haul truck drivers, doctors, garbage collectors, and nurses. The helpers are grocery shelf stockers, scientists, checkers at the supermarket, pilots, billionaire philanthropists, and philanthropists of very limited means. They are soup kitchen volunteers, social workers, carry- out restaurant workers, teachers, neighbors, mailmen, pharmacists, and warehouse workers. The helpers are chefs, line cooks, parents, children, veterinarians, and flight attendants. They are Uber drivers, bank tellers, ministers, soldiers, sailors, psychologists, factory workers, farmers, ranchers and countless others who are using their time, talents, and resources in a million ways to love those who need help. Nothing raises my spirits better than coming up with a way to thank a helper and be a helper. On the flip side, nothing brings me down the elevator shaft of despair more quickly than obsessing over the COVID19 news- of- the- nanosecond. It is tempting, but I choose to resist that urge to click the News icon on my phone. Not only is obsessive news- viewing a thief of time, but it steals my joy and replaces joy with fear. Fear leads to paralysis and I am no good to anyone if I am stuck in panic mode. I can’t say that I know anyone who functions at optimum capacity curled up in the fetal position.
Join The Resistance. Put down that handheld device and deliver a note, a loaf of banana bread, and a roll of toilet paper to a neighbor. Go for a walk, a run, a bike ride. Read something uplifting and edifying or fluffy and romantic. Read something funny that makes you laugh out loud. ( I suggest Dave Barry or Bill Bryson if you need a laugh.) Then, when you are sitting in a favorite chair, or lying under a tree looking at a blue sky or one filled with stars, Be Still. Wrap yourself in the comfort and grace of His infinite love. Just Be Still And Know.
Life is beautiful and dangerous, but there is always hope. In the words of Pastor S.M. Lockridge-
“IT’S FRIDAY- BUT SUNDAY’S COMING!”
Happy Easter,
Paige
