Hanging in there

Keeping a bit of distance (vtpeacenik photo)

A week ago, I couldn't have imagined how much the world would change in seven days. It makes me wonder what it will be like in another week. I wake up each day and have to think what day of the week it is. Not that it matters much, they are all the same now, except for my usual blog post schedule, which doesn't seem all that important any more. But it is, and I need to find some ways to make my emerging daily routine help me stay safe but still continue to get exercise.

Yesterday was a glorious sunny day around here. It's time to start getting the garden ready for planting, and my front porch flower pots ready as well. Our wonderful Gardener in Chief, Carter, bought a yard of compost for our community garden and has been spreading it out among all the different garden plots. I went out there yesterday hoping to get my own garden spot ready for planting, but he had already cleared out most of the weeds and plopped a wheelbarrow full of compost on top. I asked if I could have some of the compost for my front porch, and he gave me some of the heavy, dark soil to carry up the stairs. As I transferred it from a borrowed bin, I noticed how warm the soil is. Just by itself, it is generating heat. I found this information online:

Temperatures rising in a hot-compost pile come from the activity of numerous organisms breaking down organic matter. To keep a pile running hot, pay attention to four elements: carbon, nitrogen, water, and air. A hot pile requires enough high-nitrogen materials to get the pile to heat up.

There certainly seems to be plenty of high-nitrogen materials in this compost. I will work on getting it mixed in with the existing soil in my flower pots today. And then I'll think about what flowers to plant in them. It's a very satisfying activity.

I also have received a notice from my local Y that they have put lots of videos on their website, so that I can set up my iPad in an area that has enough room to move, and select yoga, bootcamp, older adult exercise, and more. Virtual wellness programs are a lot easier to make myself do the work than trying to do it alone. I don't know about you, but I simply cannot seem to get up much incentive when there's only me. Other people may not be as socially dependent on others as I am. After decades of working out in classes, I miss the camaraderie and shared experience. I'll give the videos a try, though.

I learned that language and the way we talk about this time we're in makes a huge difference. We now talk about social distancing from one another to keep from spreading the virus, but it's really physical distancing we need. I found this opinion article on CNN, titled "Don't call it social distancing," because those words can foster social disconnection and isolation, which isn't good for anybody, but especially many of us seniors who already fight to stay connected with like-minded people.

We will get through this, but it is going to be a very different world on the other side. And we won't know how it will all shake out for weeks or months to come. I cannot tell you how much it means to me to have my virtual family, my fellow bloggers, to visit daily. Hearing about how others are going through this trying time, and how we are trying to stay safe while everything "out there" represents the danger of infection. Eventually more than half of the population of the world is projected to have contracted this disease, and 80% will recover just fine. Most of the lucky ones are not elderly, like me, however. I try to keep some perspective, but it's hard sometimes. I miss my coffee shop friends. I miss my social connections.

There are kitchens and living rooms I will never visit in person, but they are like home to me in many ways. I care about so many of you, and how you are doing during this very scary moment in the history of the world. No country or location is spared, and we have the opportunity to make the world better, more connected in positive ways, or devolve into warring factions. I will do my part to make it a better place, and I know that you, my dear friends, will too. We must stand up for our belief that good will prevail.

I would like to end this post with a rather long poem written by Richard Hendricks, an Irish priest, who posted this on Facebook a few days ago. It has inspired me, and I hope it will do the same for you. Until we meet again next week, I pray that we will all stay safe and remember and count our blessings.

Lockdown 

Yes there is fear.
Yes there is isolation.
Yes there is panic buying.
Yes there is sickness.
Yes there is even death.
But,
They say that in Wuhan after so many years of noise
You can hear the birds again.
They say that after just a few weeks of quiet
The sky is no longer thick with fumes
But blue and grey and clear.
They say that in the streets of Assisi
People are singing to each other
across the empty squares,
keeping their windows open
so that those who are alone
may hear the sounds of family around them.
They say that a hotel in the West of Ireland
Is offering free meals and delivery to the housebound.
Today a young woman I know
is busy spreading fliers with her number
through the neighbourhood
So that the elders may have someone to call on.
Today Churches, Synagogues, Mosques and Temples
are preparing to welcome
and shelter the homeless, the sick, the weary
All over the world people are slowing down and reflecting
All over the world people are looking at their neighbours in a new way
All over the world people are waking up to a new reality
To how big we really are.
To how little control we really have.
To what really matters.
To Love.
So we pray and we remember that
Yes there is fear.
But there does not have to be hate.
Yes there is isolation.
But there does not have to be loneliness.
Yes there is panic buying.
But there does not have to be meanness.
Yes there is sickness.
But there does not have to be disease of the soul
Yes there is even death.
But there can always be a rebirth of love.
Wake to the choices you make as to how to live now.
Today, breathe.
Listen, behind the factory noises of your panic
The birds are singing again
The sky is clearing,
Spring is coming,
And we are always encompassed by Love.
Open the windows of your soul
And though you may not be able
to touch across the empty square,
Sing.