The Pointlessness of Regret

 Last Sunday, I came into contact with someone who has now tested positive for the coronavirus. Without thinking, I did a very stupid thing, because I was so pleased to see them - I gave them a brief, sideways, facing away hug. So now I am self-isolating in my own house, trying to keep away from my son and my husband, until next Wednesday. I have ordered a home-testing kit, which came too late yesterday to be done, so I'll be sending it off today.

I have been kicking myself for my idiotic impulsive gesture, but what is the point? I did what I did, and now I may have to pay for it. I don't so much mind for myself, but I am praying with every fibre of my heart that if I do get this horrible virus, I won't pass it on to my two loved ones. Particularly not to my husband, who is diabetic.

Sometimes, we all do things which we later regret. "If only" are probably the two saddest words in the English language. "If only I had..." "If only I hadn't..." But "if only" always comes too late. I guess the only thing we can do is to try to live and act in such a way that we don't end up in the "if only" situation.

Except that, we always, always will. Sometimes it is unavoidable (unlike my mistake). Sometimes, someone we love moves away, leaves us, and we are left with a whole crop of "if onlys" to live with. We will regret all the wasted opportunities to be kinder, all the times we were unkind.

I guess that what I'm saying is, this has taught me a lesson. To be as kind as I can, in my interactions with other people, with other living beings, so that my crop of regrets will be as small as possible.

As my friend Celia writes each day, "stay safe and well."

Past and Future

On this final day of the year, the quotation by Tseng-Kuang is most apposite, "Do not worry about the past, turn to the future." 

It reminds me of the annual joy and challenge of filling in my Year Compass, which I will be doing with my other half this evening. I blogged about this here. We will be looking back on the past year (and oh my, what a year it has been!) and looking forward to a (hopefully) less constricted 2021. Although I must say at this point, I would far rather remain in lockdown longer and get this horrible virus defeated, than come out early and risk it going on indefinitely.

In spite of all its oddness - who would have dreamed that everyone not only could, but should, walk into a bank in a mask and ask for money and no-one would turn a hair? - 2020 has not been entirely bad. I have grieved over the loss of friends and acquaintances, and missed all the hugs I haven't received, the friends and family I haven't seen face-to-face, and the Unitarian events I haven't attended (especially Summer School). But like I say, it has not been all bad. I turned 60 in February and am happy about that. My first novel, One Foot in Front of the Other, was published in October, and I would never have dreamed that I would be featured in a prominent broadsheet newspaper, talking about it. And I have crocheted four blankets and worked on my next book most days.

At this time of year, a time of endings and beginnings, I always find the words of 19th century Unitarian and Transcendentalist Ralph Waldo Emerson both challenging and reassuring: 

"Write it on your heart that every day is the best day of the year. No man has learned anything rightly until he knows that every day is doomsday. Today is a king in disguise. Today always looks mean to the thoughtless, in the face of a uniform experience that all good and great and happy actions are made up precisely of these blank todays. 

Let us not be so deceived; let us unmask the king as he passes! He only is rich who owns the day, and no-one owns the day who allows it to be invaded with worry, fret and anxiety.

You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities no doubt crept in; forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day; begin it well and serenely and with too high a spirit to be cumbered with your old nonsense. This day is all that is good and fair. It is too dear, with its hopes and invitations, to waste a moment on the yesterdays."

I hope that 2021 will be a better year for all of us - that we will all be vaccinated against Covid 19, that we will eventually be able to meet in person once more, and that our experiences of the past year will have turned us into kinder, more compassionate people. Another New Year will be welcomed in at midnight, full of hints and promises. We have another chance to learn new things, to make new friends, to appreciate old friends, and to recognise the Divine everywhere.

May it be so, for all of us.

 

The Difference between Choosing Isolation and Being Forced Into It

 The words of Seneca, the Roman philosopher who lived in the first century CE, really resonate with me. He wrote, "You have to combine and alternate times of solitude and times of sociability. The one awakens in us a longing for people, the other a longing for ourselves" (or, I guess, our own company).

I have found that as I have got older, I have embraced solitude more and more. I blogged about it last year, here. I think I am a true ambivert, which the Google Dictionary defines as, "a person who has a balance of extrovert and introvert features in their personality."

And yet, there is a huge difference between choosing to spend time alone, and being forced to, as many people have learned this year. I probably only left the village once a week, during the first months of this coronavirus crisis, to do the weekly food shop. But, here's the thing - I could have done, if I had wanted to. I am not in an at-risk category, so was not compelled to self-isolate for weeks and months at a time, which has been the fate of many. And in recent weeks, I have even started to lead worship in person again, for a few brave congregations.

Most people have a very natural contrarian streak in them: if they are told they MUST NOT do something, that something becomes even more attractive. Older family members and friends, who truly are vulnerable, have, by and large, shrugged their shoulders and accepted the inevitable. I was so very glad when the concept of 'bubbles' was floated and it became possible to visit my parents once more. But even there, I keep my distance, and keep my visits rare and short. And I have not been able to do any in-person pastoral visits since March. Phoning people is good, but it's not the same.

But I have really missed the possibility of gathering in Unitarian community, at our General Assembly meetings, at Great Hucklow, at Summer School. Virtual meetings just aren't the same. And I do wonder what it will be like next year (?) when we are once more able to meet in person... because I'm guessing it won't be the same. I will be worrying about things I took so much for granted: can I hug people? will it be safe for more vulnerable people to spend so much time in close physical proximity to others? I'm sad to say that I think we are only touching the edges of what we have lost.

The impact of enforced self-isolation has been enormous, particularly in terms of mental health. Which is why it has been so important to reach out to our friends, our community, in new ways. I would guess that at the beginning of this year, hardly anyone of my acquaintance had heard of Zoom, let alone used it. But now we meet for worship, for coffee, for business meetings, just to talk, all the time, using this wonderful software programme.

And it has enabled Unitarians all over the country to keep in touch with each other, to sample each others' worship services, in a way that would have seemed... unbelievable, a few months ago.

I pray that we will continue to find ways to keep in touch with each other, to help those who are forced to self-isolate, to keep their sanity.

Appreciating the Silver Lining

"Many people miss the silver lining, because they are expecting gold." This week's quote is by Maurice Setter. Whom I was not able to find out anything about, because of the similarity of his name to Maurice Setters, a footballer. *sigh* Dear old Google!

Which, it occurred to me, is a good example of missing the silver lining because I was expecting gold. So I dutifully clicked on the Maurice Setter*s* Wikipedia entry, and discovered that he played for Exeter City, West Bromwich Albion, Manchester United, Stoke City, Coventry City and Charlton Athletic.

Moving swiftly on...

At this stage in the corona virus lockdown, I am sure that the "gold" we are all hoping for and expecting is that the death rate from this awful virus will decrease, that an effective vaccine will be found, that the pressure on the dedicated staff of the NHS will ease, and that the lockdown will be lifted.

So it was hard to watch the evening news last night, and to see that the daily death rate had gone back up, and that the lockdown is to be extended for another three weeks. My heart goes out to all the people whose loved ones have died during this time. Knowing that they will have died alone, with no friends or family close to them. And, that deprivation will stay with the survivors for a very long time, even though it was not their fault, and they could not have done anything more than they had already done.

How to even look for a silver lining in the face of such grief? To say, "it could have been worse" could (quite rightly) be taken as crass insensitivity by those who are grieving.

But I have tried very hard to find the silver lining of being in lockdown. I am fortunate in being a natural introvert, so being at home, with just my husband, son and cat for company, has not been too much of a hardship. I think I would have found it harder to deal with if I had been living alone. As it is, I have had much more time to follow my hobbies: cross-stitch, crochet, writing and reading. My weekly piano lesson has been delivered via Face Time, and it has worked very satisfactorily.

Although I am still working, I am not travelling to do so, and that has opened up many free hours.

And the weather has been glorious. Again, I count myself so very fortunate to live in the countryside, able to walk around the fields, or up into the forest. And to watch Spring unfold before my wondering eyes. An annual miracle, which this year I have had the time to observe more closely. Another silver lining - I would not have taken so many walks, in the ordinary course of things.

I have noticed a change in the people we have met (at the safe 2 meter distance) on these walks. Everyone has greeted us, and people we know have stopped to chat. The amount of benevolent interest by neighbours seems to have gone through the roof. I have read many examples of this on Facebook, and our next door neighbour, who is a postman, and hence out every day, has offered to get us anything we need in between our own shopping expeditions. So kind.

I think the main silver lining for me has been that this has happened *now*, when there are so many different ways of keeping in touch - not only by phone or letter, but also by e-mail, Facebook, Face Time, Skype and Zoom.  I had never even heard of Zoom before the corona virus, but have now taken part in several Zoom meetings. And my colleagues and I have managed to keep in touch with our congregations / Districts by sharing online services in various formats and sending round news e-mails in between, and doing pastoral "visits" by phone. Of course it's not the same, could never be the same, as face-to-face, hug-to-hug, direct interaction with our loved ones and our beloved communities. But it has been something.

I am afraid that the long-term fall-out from the corona virus will be both difficult and complex to deal with. Not only the effect on people who have lost loved ones, although that of course is the worst, but also the number of jobs lost, companies closing down, will lead to great changes in our economy. Not to mention the emotional and psychological effects that being in lockdown, being isolated, has had on too many people.

And we will need all the kindness, all the compassion, that we have shown to each other during this time, to work together towards a better, more compassionate society. Rather than reverting to our old ways. Because the shocking truth is, that although humankind has suffered greatly during these weeks and months, the rest of creation has thriven. Seas and rivers are less polluted, the air is cleaner, and the knock-on effects of those benefits on the natural world has been widespread. We will need to build on this silver lining, "when it is all over", rather than going back to our old, polluting ways.

If you have found a silver lining in these weeks, please share them...

Love Opens Doors

Rabindranath Tagore, the Bengali poet and short-story writer (among other talents) wrote, "Whoever does good, knocks on the door; whoever loves, finds it open."

As we all hunker down to live our new lives under COVID-19, I have been encouraged and uplifted by the amount of good deeds and loving that is going on in the world, in my neighbourhood and in my country.

To be sure, there are still some selfish people, who are operating from places of scarcity and fear, who are hoarding toilet rolls and pasta, in deep fear of an almost entirely fictitious Armageddon. But most of the people I know, both online and in person, are taking a far more pragmatic, and un-selfish approach to life. Unitarian ministers and lay worship leaders / congregation leaders are producing online resources to share with their congregations, coming up with ingenious ways to keep in touch with them while the physical distancing rules are in force, and generally trying to do their best in very difficult circumstances.  I have found the willingness, even eagerness, of the fit and healthy, to care for the less fortunate among us, very heartening.

This virus is undoubtedly the most life-changing thing most of us have come across, in our whole lives. I believe that how we respond to it, both individually, and as a society, will have a great effect on how well we come through it. If we do the best that we can to look after ourselves, support others, or receive support graciously and with gratitude, we will come out of this better and stronger than before. But if we allow fear to overcome common sense, it will be a very long few weeks or months.

Yes, there are things we cannot control - how long this will last, its effects on the economy, and on our individual lives. Yes, we are afraid for the well-being of our loved ones. But there are also things we can control - mainly our own attitudes, our willingness to take each day as it comes, sensible adherence to the physical distancing regulations (because this is not about "social" distancing at all - there are many other ways to keep in touch) and to do our best to remain as positive as we can, and get through this somehow.

Bright blessings to all my readers - may you be well, may you be happy, may you be free from harm, may you find peace. Amen