And like the man who is eventually the last man on Earth, stuck in a library, WITHOUT his much needed glasses, I am, having been given my wish, not sure what to do with myself. Like many, many others.
On this second day of quarantine, our daughter-in-law doubts if they can keep our two grands (eight and four) from killing each other. I remember what it was like being stuck in the house for only a day or so with teenagers bouncing off the walls, and I hope for the best for all the mothers and fathers out there...
We have enough food, reading materials, jobs that need to be done around the house and outside. We're hoping to go down to the boat this week, to do some sanding and painting so we can put it in the water by mid-April. I can also begin to plan my garden.
Perhaps we, as a country, needed this: the solitude; the introspection; the quiet.
I came across this this morning. It resonated deeply.
"And the people stayed home. And read books, and listened, and rested, and exercised, and made art, and played games, and grew gardens full of fresh food, and learned new ways of being, and were still. And listened more deeply. Some meditated, some prayed, some danced. Some met their shadows. And the people began to think differently.
"And the people healed. And, in the absence of people living in ignorant, dangerous, mindless, and heartless ways, the earth began to heal.
"And when the danger passed, and the people joined together again, they grieved their losses, and made new choices, and dreamed new images, and created new ways to live and heal the earth fully, as they had been healed."