Skip to main content

Covid19 Journey Day 33


April 23, 2020

Today’s observation – As I complete one postponed task after another, and the surfaces clear of piles of papers and unfinished must-dos, my mental space opens too. It looks for other targets of attention, asking questions that mostly stand outside of my day to day thoughts. I am privileged enough to dally among the big personal existential questions. What would make me happier? Is my job still a vocation or an occupation? With whom do I want to live when I move from here? Can I skinny my life down more? Where do I want to travel next? Then another foot falls, allowing the rest of humanity into my thoughts.  There is the story about day workers who have left to hang out to dry, and so are their resources. Tethered to it are the forecasts of a hunger pandemic to follow the coronavirus pandemic, while other stories loom of an IMF forecast for a global economic crisis. Our social media platforms are thriving as launchpads for misinformation that is undermining democracies all over the world. When I stand in this arena of concern, my imperatives reconfigure.  I come from a line of dreamers and planners who occupy today with eyes on tomorrow. And I realize that the simple questions grow quieter as I widen my perspective and considerations. I hear the term biblical and epic applied to what is ahead for the coming year.  We have paused together and are gathering ourselves. Now, do we consume the dire forecasts together too? Those of us with good fortune and dumb luck for adequate resources, good health, and a safe place to live are like hothouse flowers.  And like many Americans, my family indulged in implicit shaming if you couldn’t get your life act together under an assumption that you were suffering as the result of poor planning or careless living. The morals of Aesop’s fables run amock in the family attitude and lack of empathy.  It kept us tucked into another myth, that of a successful self-made person.  There is no such thing; success is a team sport. Meanwhile, the big questions about what follows in our lives after this pause are shifting day by day. The more significant considerations from world watchdog groups bring directives to mind, more relevant to the times than what will make me happier? Not to get unnecessarily dark, but maybe we need to train our thoughts on global preparations and policies that will help us ride out the choppy refugee clogged seas waiting beyond the eye of this hiatus.  The writing on the wall grows expansive.

Today’s image – I took another student to the airport today. We stood in that place of unknowing – excited for her homecoming and apprehensive about how her journey will go.  What we fear are inconveniences, not real dangers. And I have often marveled at the way we have come to expect a transglobal trip to happen in total comfort and without incident. We just don’t do calamity like we used to. If something goes awry, we train our feelings and our focus on who’s to blame.  In my parents’ lifetime, a trip across the state that went without car trouble or other mishap was fortunate.  Take traveling back another generation or two, and an uneventful journey never happened. We moved about outfitted for every contingency we could imagine because one or two things were sure to go wrong. Life is a struggle.  Today, I subscribe to the school of modern expectations that my student will move through her destination points like a cog turning through its gears.  Still, so much depends on the red wheelbarrow.

Today’s idea – What drives preservation? A friend shared an article in National Geographic about the revival of foxes on the Channel Islands off the California coast. The little daytime predators are iconic, but they were on the brink of extinction in the 1990s because of a cascade of ecological collapses that were spawned by European settlers one hundred and fifty years ago.  The farmers left, the island made into a National Park. While vestigial feral pigs made a mess of the island flora, biologists and park rangers had come to think of the foxes as the healthiest part of the island ecosystem.  So when they began to disappear, a full-scale investigation was launched. What conclusion rose to the surface was that a combination of Bald Eagle's decline due to DDT use,  a booming feral pig population, and the arrival of golden eagles resulted in disappearing wild foxes. The golden eagles had filled a niche left open by the Bald’s vacancy; they came to eat the pigs and hunted the foxes as an additional snack. The remedy was threefold.  Cull the pigs, trap and move the golden eagles, and reinstate the bald eagle population. Put things back the way they were. Good old investigative science to the rescue! It provided a depth of knowledge that gave the biologists and park officials the toe hold they needed to restore balance in a long broken habitat. The story is uplifting, and we praise the preservation work and tenacity of dedicated professionals.   Now, in the face of our pending cascade of collapses, will we invite science and a bevy of benevolent policymakers to come to our rescue too?

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Death Might Be Just A Holy Rend

  Death Might Be Just A Holy Rend And life a faithful pillow - a pillow to go flat, a spirit to drift off,  glaciers to melt and raise the sea. The blueprint is clear - Expect a tiny storm of mercy–  full of crows and bottle flies to debride the corpse,  to tithe the land.      And respect the putrid demise - things that fall apart make space for miracles.   Yet there persists the memory of breath rinsed in lavender and salt air. Then the dreams for blood and semen to revive, to metabolize  every tired, sad gospel into a hatch of octopus. Death confesses everything as she conjures her necrosis, as she feigns redemption, fools us with false devotion. She believes our defiance will set her free.   We must let grief to be the thread and needle to darn the rend, renew the cloth. then we can grasp the nascent green of winter wheat in spring.

Covid Journal Entry 14

April 4, 2020 Today’s image – Exploring social cohorts. So, on campus now there is a small village of us living together, the remnants of those in residence this year.   We are an international population: seven from the US, six from Vietnam, five from China,   four from Morocco, one from the DR and two dogs/three cats.   We share four large buildings where we live, take our meals, study and exercise, on a five-acre campus. The rest of the two hundred and sixty or seventy odd community members are sheltering in their homes; some of the teachers and administrators dropping by during the week to work in their offices.   We have had little or no contact with them so far.   Our chef and his crew of two come in by rotation to prepare and serve the daily meals, a maintenance duo tend to the essential tasks and repairs, the city services haul away trash and recycling, the postal service, UPS and FedEx still deliver mail and packages.   It’s Iowa and the gove...

Covid19 Journal Entry 13

April 3, 2020 Today’s idea – I want to follow a suggestion of looking at my situation through different lenses. A macro lens magnifies my considerations of things, hopefully so that I might notice what I’m overlooking. Peering through these eyes, I see life slow down and seem more intentional with the extended solitude of quarantine.   The introverted place in me is mostly fine with this state of things, until the longings for companionship or just hanging out with friends stirs up unruly emotions. These vex me because they take on the old voice of negative self-talk.   In this head space I can turn normal feelings of missing my family, particularly sons and granddaughters into an old loop of “they don’t mis me so much anyway because I’m not around like most good grandmothers are.”   I’ve even given myself a moniker, VAG, visiting aunt grandmother.   Somehow it makes me feel less consequential but still adorable.   We live out our choices and our strokes o...