Covid-19 has the world on its ear - whatever that means. I'm not exactly sure what it means to be "on your ear," but there are plenty of effects of this current crisis that can be observed and recorded:
1) Quarantine. This means people having more time on their hands - time for thinking and reflecting, time for reaching out, and responding. And time to ponder this transition.
2) Shortages. Or they may be perceived shortages, which have a similar consequence. People are stocking up, on everything from toilet paper and drinking water, to Rice & Beans. "What are they going to do with all that rice & beans?" my wife wants to know. We've been buying them by the 25 or 50 pound bags since Y2K and even before that. You almost have to when you're feeding eight kids!
3) Anxiety. Funny thing about worrying over your future - it never has been for certain anyway. The Unexpected happens! Circumstances are always out of our complete control. New and surprising situations test our mettle and reveal our true character. "What's a body (or soul) to do?" Keep working on that inner self. It's all you really have control over.
4) Deepening. As we all "hunker down," becoming immersed or entrenched in home and family and familiar jobs that have taken a sudden turn, we take a closer look. We may examine, or gaze, or even behold, what we have and who we're with, in a new light.
Yesterday at twilight I went out to my yard to consider a watering system. Spring has always been a busy time for yard work, and I've always said, "I wouldn't mind all this so much if it were the only thing I was doing!" But since it's never the only thing and there have always been lots of other things it gets squeezed in and hurried up. Then I don't enjoy it as much and worst of all I forget to "stop and smell the flowers," which ironically is the main reason for having a yard and a garden and watering and growing things.
As I walked the paths and climbed up and down the hill that defines my yard, the new light I saw it in was like a bulb lit up in my mind. I saw myself growing older here (I turned 60 last summer and we've now been here 30 years!) I saw each stepping stone I have placed, each stair, each terrace, and the buildings we have built. And I thought, "Perhaps I shall be here long enough to put the finishing touches on all that we have begun!"
We are all "works in progress," pushing through and finding our way and putting one foot in front of the other. Savor this time and this opportunity to consider your roots, or plant some roots. Go deep in the soil of relationships and connections and live your life well! The bard poet sings "I know that when this life ends, a better one begins." And I will be a better man for having lived.