It’s April 4rd, 2020. Here in Massachusetts, we are being told to expect COVD-19 cases to peak in about two weeks. I don’t know whether that’s an accurate prediction. Nor do I know what, exactly, we will face when the peak does come. All I know is that, for the moment, we in Massachusetts are not Wuhan, China. We are not Italy. Nor are we New York. Not yet. But we will soon be some version of all of these places. So, I’ve been thinking over the past few days: What is my task in these next couple of weeks, as a human being in this place where I am, for now at least, alive?
Some days I have been building domino raceways out of colorful wooden dominoes that I mindfully stand upright, one next to the other, in a long trail. It’s good practice at staying present, in the moment. When I’m finished, I lure one of my cats to the end of the line with a piece of kibble so that, as she nibbles, the little blocks tremble and then tumble, tumble, tumble, tumble, until they are all lying, silent, on the floor. They make such a pleasant, even soothing, sound as they knock each other over. Many minutes’ work. Only a few seconds for them all to tip and fall. Such a joyful few seconds, too!
But amidst the lightheartedness, sometimes a thought creeps in: You shouldn’t be doing something so frivolous while so many people are sick and dying, while nurses and doctors are fighting to keep others and themselves alive, while store clerks who can barely live on the wages they earn are packing up groceries for delivery, so that you don’t have to go outside to shop for food.
When these thoughts sneak in, though, I’ve taken to reminding myself of something: These minutes of domino- and kitty-related joy create a strong, positive energy that fills my heart and lifts my spirits. They increase my stores of happiness and of inner strength. This, in turn, makes it easier for me to get through each day, because I have some reserves of calm and joy to draw on in the midst of the chaos swirling through the world.
At other times, I sit in meditation, tracing in my mind the long string of people who made it possible for me to receive three books I ordered last week from my local bookstore, to support them while they are closed: the store employee who read my online order and processed my payment; another employee who took the books from the shelf and placed them in a box and sealed it up; the mail carrier who picked the box up from the store and took it to the post office; the who-knows-how-many post office employees who passed the box along, until it ended up in the hands of my neighborhood mail carrier, who delivered it to my doorstep on Wednesday. His name is Jeff. Thank you, Jeff. Many thanks to all of you in that chain of humans who made it possible for me to hold these books that will occupy my mind during the coming weeks. I am so grateful to all of you. May you be safe, and healthy, and happy, and free from suffering. When I practice this meditation, I feel a loving connection to each of the people I imagine as part of the delivery chain. Like setting up the dominoes and smiling as my cat knocks them down, this also adds to my storehouse of nourishing energy. It helps me establish and maintain bonds of affection and well-wishing with those outside my house. More love to draw on.
As I said, I don’t know what the weeks ahead will bring, here in Massachusetts. But it seems likely that many of us – most of us? – will know people who get ill, some very ill, some of whom will die. Some of whom may be us. I can’t know what any of that will feel like until I am invited – no, forced! – to feel it. But what I’ve been thinking about lately is that I am going to need deep reserves of joy and happiness and peace to get through whatever comes. They give me resilience of a sort that’s different from the kind that I access through determination or sheer force of will. I’ll need both of these types of energies in abundance, if I’m going to be able to not only remain calm myself, but also be the best possible support for those around me.
So, as I make my way forward now, day by day, I am going to focus on building up my stores of happiness and love and joy, one tiny addition at a time – through meditation, and walks in the woods where the mockingbirds’ songs make me laugh; through heartfelt and lighthearted talks with my friends and family; and, yes, through setting up a couple hundred dominoes, so that I can have the fun of watching my kitty set them all tumbling. I hope that these reserves and my continuing, loving connections with others will enable me to remain upright when the pieces of world around me threaten to tip and fall. And not just me. Of course not just me. May we all be sustained and carried by the love and joy that flow between us. May all beings be safe, and healthy, and happy. May all beings be free from suffering and the causes of suffering.
Sue Downing 