Pandemic postcard #4: Too much to think

TGIF. It is Friday, right? It's after noon and I am still in my PJs. I was online all morning, mostly scrolling through my social feeds, though I also managed some serious reading. At some point, hopefully as soon as I post this, I'll get dressed, wash the windows for the first time this spring, go for a long walk, and try to make something more of this day.

If there's ever been a time to practice compassion for ourselves and others, it is now, as the days stretch into weeks and the weeks stretch into months, with no clear answers ahead. Like many of you, I have harbored some ambitious plans for this period of isolation. Mostly, I'd love to read more, but my eyes can only read e-books for so long; I miss going to the library for physical books. I miss ballgames and seeing people and going to the movies. So I waste a lot of time reading random stuff online, doing social media, and trying not to should on myself.

There will be no sudden resurrection this year, and no miracles, and yet we can plan to easter this weekend--yes, Easter as a verb in the face of death and uncertainty. As the Rev. Scott Alexander once preached, "Easter is a decision to live with hope -- fully, recklessly, courageously -- even in the face of death and despair itself."  I haven't been able to locate his original sermon on the topic, but here's one he gave last year in the same spirit (and I may tune in for his sermon this Sunday to hear what he has to say on the topic of Easter in the time of pandemic).

I would love to be more productive and proactive and useful during this time, but other than a few volunteer shifts at the food bank and a few feeble attempts at finding paid work, I don't seem to have it in me. (I can't even fathom how parents and their children are managing. My blessings and admiration to all families.) I will use my weekly news and social media sabbath starting tonight to at least try to tap into my inner reserves of solitude (as opposed to loneliness) and creativity.

Maybe I will consider what would happen if I extended my weekend sabbath into next week, placing myself beyond the news and the endless stream of social media connection that is a lifeline, to be sure, but is also so much chatter and clatter. My absence and silence would mean nothing to the world; it could mean a great deal to me.

When despair for the world grows in me ... well, take it away, Wendell Berry