By Lee Ruggles
More time alone, more time to connect with yourself and others
For many of us—especially the retired set—the current isolation/quarantine situation isn’t that much different than our BV (“Before Virus”) status. Hopping into the car to pick up something we forgot on our last shopping trip, checking out the farmers’ markets, roaming around yard sales—sure, we did it “once in awhile,” but striking those moments from the calendar wasn’t really the end of the world. And, if driving one’s self wasn’t, and still isn’t, an option, we didn’t shop, check, or roam very often.
I, for one, have never been a let’s-have-a-party person, so solitude hasn’t been a big issue.
For that reason, I think, I’ve been able to recognize some of the good in this extended moment of solitude. If I don’t watch too much TV news, I can see the light not just at the end of the tunnel, but the light that’s right in front of me, right now. And it isn’t, as an old friend used to tell me, “a freight train coming in the other direction.”
Slowly, and in many ways, I see the light brighter and closer. We are Facetiming more often, phoning friends and family, and even letter-writing again. More people are staying in touch, checking on our well-being, asking if there’s anything we need.
Related Posts
It’s Cool to be Kind (To Yourself)
The Grounding Ability of Character
There are endless options for online seminars, college classes, concerts, movies—and many are free. Some synagogues are streaming services. There are Torah and Kabbalah classes. Sisterhoods and Women’s Groups are meeting via Zoom or another connection. And all of those unread books calling out from our shelves, “Read me! Read me!” are, finally, getting an answer.
And, no one has said that you can’t go outside. The public parks and the beaches are closed. But the area around your neighborhood isn’t. Walking my dog very early in the morning seems like a scene from an old science fiction story. Admittedly, it’s barely sunrise, but where is everybody? I know. Asleep. They do come out later, riding bikes with their kids, waving to each other from opposite sides of the street. Neighbors sometimes meet in the evening, drink in hand, sitting in their driveways or on their lawns, at least six feet apart.
The New Normal…at least for now. No one has been able to clearly define “now.” The boundary keeps changing.
It’s particularly profound for me because today marks the end of Passover—a year when the 11th plague kept us from enjoying Seders with our friends and family, face to face. But, no one and nothing can keep us from commemorating the Exodus from Egypt—from another incredible moment of change.
Thanks to Zoom, I celebrated with my daughter, three grandchildren, grandson-in-law and his family plus two of my great-granddaughters, and more.
Next year in Jerusalem? A definite possibility.
Lee Ruggles is a writer and editor living in Sarasota, Florida.
