“When the world wearies....”
What a way to label a post, eh? Especially these days, in the midst of a pandemic.
Perhaps I should clarify up front. The words in this post’s title are borrowed from 18th century poet Minnie Aumonier. The full verse appears below:
Boy, do I love/hate that verse! For one thing, the world—this pandemic—it is making me weary. (Ironically, in the midst of this big ol’ cluster, pollution rates are down in New York City, Los Angeles, and too many other big cities to name. Before and after illustrations show we’re reducing our carbon footprints and cleaning our eco-systems. Is the world perking up and saying thank you for the respite?)
For another thing, society is failing to satisfy. I mean, COVID-19 continues to suck, and people’s responses to it can be, well, jarring and unpredictable. Just listen to all the armchair public health experts, the conspiracy theorists, the battling politicians, and the burned-out-people-merely-trying-to-get-by. Everyone’s tweaking the rules. Nobody’s exactly satisfied.
The best part of the verse for me is this: there is always the garden. I understand that for some, that garden is meager. For others it might be a metaphor. Or maybe a mere memory. But everybody must have some sort of garden, no? Even in death?
For me, at present, my garden’s a whole big fat juicy yard—and life—that Rice and I tend together. With crossed fingers and yellow thumbs, we’ve made it into a place of refuge, a backdrop to plenty of spats but also to moments of sunshine that can burst a heart.
But I can’t totally love the garden part of this verse because it reminds me of the world’s inequities. For people like me—recently retired, physically and fiscally okay—this pandemic has mostly been an inconvenience. When I tend my garden, I can almost forget we’re in a crisis. Yet to forget would dishonor the lives lost. To forget would disregard the millions who are sick, frightened, out of work, forced to work, hungry, facing business failure, fretting over bankruptcy, exhausted from front-line response, burned out from providing endless care....
I don’t take lightly the messages from former co-workers, still doing battle on behalf of public health:
“We are working overtime, six days a week, no leave, no flex.....”
“All I want to do is sleep....”
“It is hard to sleep. I keep waking up in a panic....”
“Please pray for us....”
Of course, I can and will pray. As I tend my garden, I’ll remember those who keep fighting the good fight. But is there a way to honor them, aside from prayer? I’m not quite sure. I don’t have millions to donate to humanitarian efforts. I don’t have boundless energy to volunteer. What I do have is faith in humanity, coupled with positivity and gratitude.
In the spirit of positivity, here’s a stab at a Top Ten Gratitude List, prompted by living in these times of COVID-19.
I am grateful that:
10. Scoring a roll of toilet paper can be an exhilarating experience. Who would have ever thought that?
9. Disconnecting can be good. I know, clicking off those news briefs is a bit like turning away from a train wreck. It’s possible, though. Just. Press. Off.
8. Zoom is now my friend. Shoot, I don’t just use it. I subscribe to the Pro version and facilitate socials and meetings with it.
7. There really is an upside to being an introvert.
6. Being a packrat has its upsides, too. How else would I have been able to stuff bears into our upstairs window so neighborhood kids could enjoy going on a bear hunt?
5. Walking the neighborhood can be as invigorating as an Olympic event if you put enough oomph behind it. Or, it can just get you out of the house and moving.
4. One can worry about the food chain supply but still enjoy eating well. (That has a downside, too, but let’s not bring the scale onto this list.)
3. Life goes on. Not for everyone, mind you. For most of us, though, plans get spoiled (big ones like spring break trips, weddings, proms and graduations, family reunions and retirement parties),,,but life goes on.
2. Nothing beats the small wonders: ...the sly spectacle of a bird nesting under a painting on the patio, ...the twitter of baby birds coming from that nest, ...the magical mystery of family sagas, like The Case of the Misplaced Purple Playdough Poop Nuggets.
1. For me, the small wonders include this promise: when the world wearies..., there is always the garden. Wishing you positivity, gratitude, and safety in the shelter of your own garden.
Peace ~ J
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