“Never, never, never give up!!!”
One of the major challenges of this pan-demic
has been enforced solitude. We are
social beings. We crave social connectivity
and take comfort in each other’s presence.
Now, self-isolating at home, we must learn
to navigate solitude. Interestingly, the
World Health Organization changed the
term ‘social distancing’ to ‘physical distanc-ing,’
recognizing the critical importance of
social connectedness. D. W. Winnicott, a
renowned British psychoanalyst, highlight-ed
the importance of building tolerance to
being alone in his article, The Capacity to
Be Alone. Winnicott viewed the capacity
to be alone as a developmentally acquired
ability which needs to be nurtured and is
one of the most important signs of emo-tional
maturity. A favorite poet, David
Whyte, addressed this topic from a poetic
perspective:
“One small thing
I’ve learned these years,
how to be alone,
and at the edge of aloneness
how to be found by the world.”
Despite the enforced solitude, this
pandemic confirms our interdependence,
reinforces our sense of affinity with others,
accentuates our common bonds. Even the
masks we wear are designed primarily to
protect others from the possibility of our
harming them. Covid-19 has created webs of
giving and receiving, forcing us to find ways
to connect despite objective limitations. A
response I got from my close friend who
lost his life during this pandemic: “I am
relearning what I have known for years,
that the most important thing in life is
the people in it – giving love and letting it
come in. Things are not important. Time
is. Using it well. No one knows how much
time they have, and we can’t get wasted
time back.”
No, we can’t get wasted time back, yet
the pandemic is warping our sense of
time. The normal calendar has become
irrelevant, as homebound days flow into
each other, blending together with little
distinction between them. I am learning
to appreciate the merits of a slower pace
of life. My habitual tendency has been to
live intensely and keep busy. This crisis
defies my familiar style. It is teaching me to
appreciate stillness, an unhurried pace, the
quiet time alone. A colleague, a busy pro-fessional,
wrote in response to my question
how thoroughly she enjoys the confinement,
having time to herself for the first time in
years. She savors quiet minutes, learning
that “It is me who must set myself free, the
power to do so is in my hands.” A similar
response from a close friend: “I don’t need
to do much or to go ‘places’ to be content.”
In addition to adjusting to a different
pace, the ‘new normal’ requires rapidly
adjusting to changing circumstances. Our
flexibility is being tested and, hopefully,
stretched. We can’t do the familiar things
that used to fill our days, so we learn (or
relearn) to love some of the things we can
do. One of my friends reported that he
is learning to enjoy foods he never liked
before, as the foods he likes have become
difficult to access. I learned that cooking
can be thoroughly enjoyable: extracting
comfort from small things that, even in
the midst of hard times, can still come out
just right... I team with Mr. Oh, owner of
our Towers Fruit Market, who is supplying
the best fish, vegetables and fruits I need
for a healthy Mediterranean diet, and I
welcome recipes from my generous, gour-met-
cook friends. I also learned to luxuriate
in getting up later in the morning, leaning
into good books mid-day (“A Little Life”
by Hanya Tanagihara, 720 pages of good
writing, has been a favorite), spending time
writing haiku (and sharing mine with those
of poetic friends quarantined all over the
world), listening to my old CD’s, meditating,
exercising in my living room... I am learning
new ways of maintaining social contacts,
and I am learning that honing my skills at
using modern technology has merit...
I am trying every day to find meaning and
pleasure in seemingly ordinary things that
should not be taken for granted: a gorgeous
butterfly, the way the clouds paint the sky,
the sweet sounds of birds singing, the kind
act of a neighbor or friend, an old photo
that prompts blissful memories...
I am developing an even deeper appreci-ation
of nature for remaining so powerfully
generous. I particularly love North Shore
Towers’ sunsets, each surprisingly different.
I am learning to step out of my routine
every single evening – take time to witness
how the sun makes way for the night, watch
the last light of the day before darkness
creeps over. I love watching the Manhattan
skyline warmly lit by the glow of a sunset! I
recently resumed a sunset ritual which had
been born when my grandchildren were
young: We would face a departing sun,
watch it slide down toward the horizon,
and – attuned to its promise of renewal –
recite aloud together in melodious tones:
Good night sun... Sleep tight... See you
tomorrow... These days, I often find myself
whispering this sun salutation. I sit on my
balcony and, dazzled by the setting sun’s
colors and luminosity, let myself be aston-ished
anew time and again. I am aware
how fleeting sunsets are. How light fades.
How all beautiful things come to an end.
Still, each sunset holds the promise of a
new dawn, the world keeps on spinning,
I am grateful for its offerings and, as John
Lennon recommended: “Whatever gets
you through the night.”
But how about managing the big tasks,
the ones that seem overwhelming? In a
meeting with colleagues, we focused on a
simple yet useful strategy: Instead of being
intimidated by the enormity of challenges,
try to balance the different demands. Rate
tasks by importance, and break big projects
into smaller, more manageable tasks that
can be completed one at a time. Martin
Luther King said: “You don’t have to see
the whole staircase, just take the first
step.” Focus on one step at a time, just
keep going in the right direction... And
Dr. Seuss: “So be sure when you step, step
with care and great tact. And remember
that life’s A Great Balancing Act.”
A few words about resilience: some
responders to my question reported
learning that they are more resilient than
they believed they were. Resilience entails
accepting a new reality, even if it is not
what you wished for or were accustomed
to. There are losses. Absences. Voids. We
have to start with what is and move up
from there, hone the courage to live as
fully as we can, though we don’t have full
control of the outcome. A beloved North
Shore Towers’ friend, who spent some time
in the hospital during this pandemic as
the result of an unfortunate fall and with
whom I have deep soul-to-soul talks, told
me how she managed to mobilize newly
identified strengths during her most vul-nerable
minutes: “I learned to advocate
for myself in ways I never have before...
Yes, I am more resilient than I knew.”
In seeming contrast, some of those
who responded to my question shared
that living through a pandemic is a hum-bling
experience, teaching them that they
are more vulnerable than they previously
realized. I too feel this way. It is important
to remember that we can be simultane-ously
vulnerable and resilient. Even more:
embracing our vulnerability can help us
become more resilient. I will, again, quote
David Whyte:
“The only choice we have as we mature
is how to inhabit our vulnerability, how
we become larger and more courageous
and more compassionate through our
intimacy with disappearance, our choice
is to inhabit vulnerability as generous
citizens of loss, robustly and fully, or
conversely, as misers and complainers,
reluctant and fearful, always at the gates
of existence, but never bravely and com-pletely
attempting to enter, never want-ing
to risk ourselves, never walking fully
through the door.”
May we all find the courage to embrace
our vulnerabilities, tap into our strengths,
and walk fully through the door... In spite
of uncertainty, may we continue to see
the beauty, smell the roses, take in the
goodness, refine our purpose, overcome
harmful emotions, find solace, and hold
on to inner peace.
September 2020 ¢ NORTH SHORE TOWERS COURIER 21