"Be prepared to stay home for two weeks."
Although the reason for this piece of advice is not pleasant and causes real concern and difficulties for many, as an introvert, I say, "Really, can I just stay home? That's not only ok, but wise?"
As an older person and a privileged one at that, I can choose to stay home, and I realize that is not possible for many. I am healthy and have good healthcare and have a strong support system in place, too.
And shelves of books waiting to be read.
My husband actually said to me, "If we have to confine ourselves to home, maybe you will finish your book." Wishful thinking on his part, I think, for completing my book will take much longer than two weeks, but, as long as I am healthy, I could make writing progress, I am sure.
No doubt you've heard the recommendation to stock up on food and other necessary supplies to last two weeks, and I have just done that, but how else does one prepare for social confinement?
For example, how many years have I had on my "this year" list, to organize all the family photographs. This could be the time.
And what about those junk drawers and overflowing closets? People my age often talk about dealing with all their stuff? Sorting and simplifying. Go to it.
Do you have all the supplies for unfinished craft or sewing or art projects? What about the pile of DVDs you always say you are going to watch again? Like all the seasons of "The West Wing"? Are you someone who used to write letters, but no longer do so? Are there people you would like to stay in touch with beyond the annual Christmas letter? Call, write, email.
If you still set an alarm clock, turn it off.
Plan your garden. Knit a prayer shawl. Color. Do yoga or T'ai Chi. Dance to your favorite music. Sing. Play the piano. Look out the window--wash your windows. Set the table with your best dishes and eat soup or grilled cheese by candlelight.
Go for a walk. No, this doesn't break the rules, if you aren't walking with a big group of companions. You can't pass on the virus or get it by passing someone on the sidewalk. The snow and ice is melting, and walking without fear of falling is much more possible. Notice where daffodils are beginning to pop up and wave to all the children biking and shooting baskets. And while you are out and about, stock a Free Library with books you finish reading.
For of course, you will have spacious time to read. Maybe even War and Peace or other books you've put off reading for lack of time.
Write in your journal. Start a gratitude list. Create an ethical will.
Sit. Think. Pray. Take on the mantel of contemplation. Hold all who suffer in your heart.
And then sit and pray some more. If you fall asleep while meditating, don't worry, you can begin your prayers again when you wake up again.
Be present.
The practice of moment-by-moment presence,
breath-by-breath awareness, emancipates attention
from frivolity, from all that is meaningless, from
all the ways in which we squander this precious
human life. Kathleen Dowling Singh
Use this time as a retreat, a time to deepen your spiritual practice.
This, too, can be a time of awakening, of acceptance.
I certainly hope we won't need to confine ourselves in this way, but if it does become necessary, I intend to be ready.
Let there be
an opening
into the quiet
that lies beneath
the chaos
where you find
the peace
you did not think
possible
and see what shimmers
within the storm.
Jan Richardson
May you be well.
An Invitation
What do you think about being confined to home? I would love to know.
A sure sign of late spring and early summer in our house is rhubarb, and much to our delight this house has full, healthy rhubarb plants. That's a good thing, for my mother didn't believe in paying for rhubarb, insisting it is just a weed. Our other homes have always had rhubarb plants, and it was a pleasant surprise to discover rhubarb plants in the tiny alley garden.
As soon as there was enough to harvest, I made a batch of rhubarb sauce for us and for my father, along with my mom's rhubarb torte. (Recipe follows.) Later I filled a big container with sauce for daughter Kate and her family. Soon I will harvest more and perhaps make a rhubarb coffee cake to have on hand when our son and daughter-in-love are visiting this weekend from Cleveland.
Rhubarb plants weren't on the "must have" list when we were house hunting, but discovering their presence this spring along with the lilac bushes in the backyard, now beginning to bloom, was a happy surprise.
We did have many other requirements on our house list, however, such as a bedroom and bath on the first floor, a double garage, a fireplace, central air conditioning, and a front porch. We did get the bedroom on the first floor, but not the other so called "musts." I mentioned to a couple friends recently how much I was missing a front porch. We loved the front porch on our home in Madison. It was private and spacious enough for several chairs and a table where we ate most meals in warm weather. The front porch became office, and library, and dining room for us and guests, and even a playroom when the grands visited. In some ways it was my favorite room in that house, and now that it is front porch season again, I do miss it.
Both friends immediately asked if we couldn't add a front porch onto this house, and, of course, with enough money and vision and patience, one can do most anything. I do hope we build a double garage and am glad there is space to do that, and we will look into adding central air, even though we know the challenges of doing that in an old house. Yes, I would love a front porch again, but is that how we want to spend time, money, and energy at this stage of our lives? Besides, just because we once had something doesn't mean we have to have it again.
What an interesting thought for someone who is used to gratification--perhaps, not immediate, but like most of us, I like getting what I want! One aspect of this stage of life, however, is change and change that includes letting go whether it is one's position or relationships, or stuff. I loved having that front porch and am so grateful to have had such a wonderful porch life, but that was then and this is now.
We bought this house in November, which means this is our first spring and summer in the house. With each season we discover more about living here and and what the gifts of life here are. In the winter, even though the sunporch was cold, we loved the light coming through all the windows. We enjoyed the coziness of the lower level where the television is and spent winter evenings hidden from winter winds. Now my husband is delighted with the yard, its good soil and established gardens, giving him room to grow and add his touch. We have adapted to the smaller spaces, including the much smaller kitchen, which now that it is painted and we have new counter tops and backsplash, I really appreciate because it is small and efficient.
I will adapt to the lack of a front porch as well, for one of the qualities I have worked to develop in myself over the years is adaptability. I don't think of it as settling for something less, but rather a willingness to discover what is good or even better in the present situation, along with being creative and looking at what is with fresh eyes. In a way discovering one's ability to adapt is a spiritual practice.
We have moved two chairs under the shade of a lovely tree in the front yard, and it is a pleasant place for chatting with neighbors and for reading, too, although I feel a bit exposed. Perhaps we will add a patio or deck in the back yard, and I will adapt to back yard privacy.
A front porch was on the desired list, but at the very top of the priority list was location--being close to our daughter and her family--and we got that plus a charming house, which is in excellent condition and the perfect size for our life now. Besides, this house has rhubarb!
My Rhubarb Torte Recipe--Serves 8
Mix together: 1 cup flour
1/2 cup butter
5 teaspoons powdered sugar
Pat mixture into a 8x8 pan and bake at 350 degrees.
Beat 2 eggs and add 1 and 1/2 cup sugar and a dash of salt, 1/4 cup plus 2 Tablespoons flour, 3/4 teaspoon baking powder, and 2 cups cut up rhubarb and 1/2 cup nuts. Mix together and put over crust.
Bake 35 minutes at 350 degrees. Serve with whipped cream or ice cream. Yum!
An Invitation
How adaptable are you? What have you needed to adapt to in recent years? What do you miss that was once part of your life, but what have you discovered along the way?
"Be prepared to stay home for two weeks."
And shelves of books waiting to be read. 
