Covid Quarantine - Week 4: A Letter To My Patients
Hi all, (first sent April 10, 2020)
Can I let you in on a secret? I have no idea what is happening right now. I don't. All I know is that we are going to be in this quarantine-state-of-affairs for longer than we would all like. Sorry to not be the bearer of better news. It's even Easter, and I can't: new life? fertility? hope? bunnies? mmm...
But I do know something about a day which happened approximately 3 years ago. (Yes, it takes me about that long to know anything!) On that day, we Americans experienced a modicum of sanity which hadn't been ours for years. On August 21, 2017, a majority of us stood still to watch the total eclipse of the sun. Do you remember that day? Social media was abuzz with live feeds from every possible location in the eclipse's path. Our astronomers were giddy with excitement. They invited us into their sandbox for a day: I loved seeing them share their brilliant love and passion for the universe's workings with the rest of us. So cool!
What I noticed though on that day-- perhaps because of the bias offered by my profession-- was that our madness stopped. What the what!? Our festering hatreds, angers, and fears about the "other" simply ceased. Lots of primal and primitive processes inhabited our national dialogue at the time. As you may remember, there had been a rather volatile, controversial, and mind-bending election... yes? remember? Whether these primal processes were born specifically from being on "Team Blue" or "Team Red", or more generally from our everlasting competitive narcissistic posturing in relationship to one another as Americans, no matter: on August 17, 2017, our frenzied madness stopped. Instead, our focus and our imaginations were captured by the splendor and the beauty of this highly anticipated phenomenon.
Maybe there's something here to be noticed: we found ourselves suddenly, stopped in our tracks, in awe. We looked up (with protective eye gear--well, most of us did :)) only to realize that, without any of our own effort to make it so, we were immersed in the beauty and splendor of our galaxy. We've been here all along?... we live... here?? Wow. Just wow.
And so just like that, on that day, our national frenzied psychosis seemed to cease and we were returned to sanity. If but for 24 hours. But still, like a fish being returned to its native waters, we seemed to be returned to ourselves— and we could calm down, breathe, and maybe even find a moment’s rest. With each other.
Could it be that our communal madness stopped because we looked up, and contemplated beauty, each in our own back yard and with each other? Go figure, if that's the case.
The Jewish philosopher, rabbi and mystic Abraham Joshua Heschel posits that what is most distinguishable about being human is our capacity to be in awe. Respect, dignity, and empathy for the "other" are much easier to come by when we take a step back and place ourselves in a posture of wonder and awe towards the "other", right down to the infinitesimal sub-atomic and quantum realities all the way to the workings of the grandeur of the cosmos-- like solar eclipses. Awesome.
Certainly, my mind wants to go in to the layers of meaning as to why Heschel's insight seems to ring true, and you may already have some ideas too. But since I am hoping this to be a "short" reflection, I wonder if looking up, contemplating beauty and relocating ourselves in a posture of awe might be clues for remaining sane as we go into week 5 (!) of self-quarantine.
Just wondering. How about we try it and see?
Peace. And "see" you all this week. I am truly in awe of all of you.
Deborah
P.S. Here are a few pictures I took yesterday when the sun made its sudden appearance. Beauty.
