Not This Summer

 

Every summer, my daughter and granddaughter and I spend a few days together at a much-loved old Vancouver hotel.  We have been doing that for years, with the same special family set-up which includes a two-bedded room and also a small single-bedded room attached. I made the reservation three months ago and have been looking forward to it ever since. It’s what we always do. It’s a tradition.

Always. But this summer is different. We think of Kelowna and the 1,000 people who are now quarantining, unable to work or see friends because they happened to be in contact with the ripple effects of house parties and other events to which a few people brought the virus. The virus needs people to carry it from place to place, and I don’t want to be the one who, perhaps while asymptomatic, brings it to my friends, family, neighbours. What would it feel like to know you’d caused such harm to so many?

Things are pretty good on our island. The numbers lately have been mixed, but not really serious. That’s because most people have been staying home, limiting their contacts, and following the directions of our excellent Premier, Minister of Health, and Chief Medical Officer.

And so, we’ve struggled about the annual Vancouver trip. It’s a balancing act for all us these days. On the one hand, why do we want to do this, and on the other hand what are the reasons against doing it?

I want to go. Especially after having spent four-months being pretty much sequestered. I need and deserve a break. And how many such summer junkets might there yet be? My daughter has a busy life, trying to find new directions now that the theatre work has disappeared for the foreseeable future. My granddaughter is going to university this fall and will have many other activities to pursue. I’m old, and now with seventy years and eight, the future doth abbreviate.

But, on the other hand, the virus numbers across the country are still increasing. This trip is not essential. Premier Horgan, Dr. Henry, Minister Dix, and Dr. Tam all encourage us to do our part in bending the curve. Every choice matters.

Should I leave our island where the numbers are fairly low and take a ferry to a city where the numbers are much higher? And stay in a hotel where visitors from all over will be coming and going and possibly bringing the virus along with them? Does that make sense?

But I want this holiday, I say to myself, we Always do this!

But maybe not this summer…

Perhaps, in the light of the pandemic, we should remove the word Always from the lexicon. Perhaps we should simply say “sometimes” or “used to.”

If we aren’t careful, everything could turn into Once upon a Time…

So no, we won’t go.

Not this summer.

 

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Lab Dispatch ABCV2020xv7v2

 

To update you on our current initiative on the planet humans call Earth, as reported on post March 15, our initiative progresses well. Close to 15 million people have contacted the virus and over 600,000 people have died. The numbers increase daily and rapidly.

In my previous dispatch, I reported that the convergence of human responses to our activities (the alleged climate crisis, the resurrection of indigenous wisdom, reduced plane travel, lowered investments in oil and gas, along with humans staying at home) could have the effect of extending the life of the planet and offering humans a more sustainable future. I am pleased to report that I no longer have that concern. Humans are again travelling, flying in airplanes, driving their cars, gathering in public places and circulating broadly. Accordingly, we too are in wide circulation, depending as we do on their assistance in transporting us. They are social beings and so they do like to be out and about, which is encouraging.

Although we make steady progress in our advancement, it’s difficult to predict just how this species will respond to the continuing combat. Sometimes, and in some places, they appear to work collaboratively to try to defeat us. At other times, they fight with each other about issues that are difficult to understand. Whether or not they should wear masks or follow other medical directives is a point of disagreement; they have demonstrations and riots about this and many other matters. The colour of their skin is increasingly the focus of activities, but the causes are perplexing. The diversity of their appearance actually makes them more interesting and perhaps more attractive, but the species which lacks colour, though in the minority, continues to try to dominate the others. They seem preoccupied with colour and so the illustrations they make of us show us as being red, or red and green, or yellow or purple. However, because we are very tiny, especially in comparison with these mammoth creatures, we are completely without colour to them. Transparent and invisible. Which is, of course, a great asset to us.

It is hard not to have some compassion for humans. They are fickle and unpredictable creatures but impressively resilient. Although not always thoughtful and frequently uncooperative, they are given to bursts of generosity to each other and even to some other species. At the same time, they are destroying much that is beautiful and life-affirming on their planet as they lumber about in their clumsy, thoughtless and, for the most part, uncoordinated manner.

Again, I will note that, as the most abundant entity in the vast universe, we have no reason to fear these ungainly creatures. We carry on with confidence that our mission to support their small planet will ensure that the diversity of other animals and plants can continue to exist.

Consider the Lillies

 

I am a heathen, never christened, leaning towards agnosticism, and yet I've always enjoyed the King James Version of the Bible. A passage I particularly like is from Matthew 6:28-29:

Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin: yet I say unto you, that even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.

Over the past four months, as Covid has kept us at home, many of us are toiling less, and I know only a few people who are spinning -- except for some spinning of our wheels. Instead, most of us have spent a good deal of time simply thinking and reflecting. Many of us seem to feel we have changed as a result and, when I question friends about this, they say something like this: “We’ve had more quiet time to live in the moment. We’ve been able to just let things be, and that’s helped us recognize what’s really important.”

We’ve become mindful. I used to think that practicing mindfulness was a bit woo woo, but now I find that taking the time to pay attention to the present moment helps me to get in touch with my thoughts and emotions. It helps me to become more curious about and more concerned with those around me.  It encourages me to be kind, be calm, and be safe. And to be more compassionate.

Many professionals have written about the benefits of mindfulness in helping us cope with the stresses of the pandemic and our fears about what is yet to come: https://theconversation.com/practising-mindfulness-can-help-us-through-the-coronavirus-pandemic-140617

I may not be arrayed like a lily of the field, but I am learning to be calm, which helps me to carry on. Perhaps I will become more like my granddaughter’s little dog who, coincidentally, is named Lily, and who has a great ability to live in the present.

The above passage from Matthew goes on to say:

Take therefore no thought for the morrow: for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.

Those words seem to speak to the importance of attending to and making the most of the present moment. Which, we are learning, is the one thing of which we can be certain.

 

 

The Other Shoe

 

 

 

 

 

 

When the first shoe thudded down, we all shuttered ourselves in our homes, hoarding toilet paper, flour and yeast, and trying to adhere to the Stage One guidelines. We learned that some vineyards would deliver wine to our home if we bought a case, which was helpful: the line-ups at the liquor stores were long and slow, and we were drinking a good deal while baking sourdough bread and looking at directions for sewing facemasks. We found that the local distillery sold bottles of hand sanitizer, as well as their usual products, and we purchased both. We washed our hands a lot, noticed how much we were touching our faces and tried to stay cheerful and kind. We slept a lot, and many of us gained weight.

When Stage Two was announced, things eased up considerably as we expanded our bubbles, shopped more, and went, if somewhat nervously, to restaurants. We planted gardens outside or on balconies or patios. It looked like the curve was beginning to flatten and we started to feel smug about how well Canadians were doing – especially in BC, we said, especially on Vancouver Island. Small islands were doing best of all. We began to talk about the future. Some of us spoke about the trips we planned to take.

Now we are in Stage Three, which feels as though we are getting back to normal. The traffic is as busy as it was before the virus hit. Hotels, motels, resorts and parks are open, and travel within the province is encouraged. (Some indigenous locations in B.C. are not welcoming visitors at present which makes sense, given the devastation they have experienced in the past from smallpox and flu brought into their communities.) Movie theatres are opening up people are out in full force in restaurants and hosting small gatherings. Film and television can now take place within our province, within the limitations of safety procedures, and there is agitation for yet greater access to entertainment.

When I’ve been at restaurants and out on the streets lately, I can feel the joy and excitement that is being experienced. The word that comes to my mind is “épanouissement,” which translates as “a sense of blossoming or fulfilment.” Covid-19 is still in our thoughts and often on our lips, but it begins to feel a lot like a normal summer. People are becoming hopeful.

And we should be hopeful; we have flattened the curve, but we may have to wait for a while. Dr Bonnie Henry has said that moving to Stage Four will require widespread vaccination against COVID-19, “Community” immunity, and broad successful treatments. And if we start to experience spikes in new cases because of the loosening of restrictions, the restrictions will return. We will move backwards.

I was encouraged to watch a recent interview with Thomas Homer-Dixon, a professor and author who is the Director of the New Cascade Institute at Royal Roads University.

https://toronto.ctvnews.ca/video?clipId=1987703

Royal Roads President Philip Steenkamp says the institute will bring researchers together to investigate how global pandemics, climate change, growing wealth inequality, economic destruction, social upheaval and political instability are interconnected. As we moved towards Stage Four, we are realizing that we’ll be dealing with a new kind of world where we will have to make progress on all these issues and their inter-relationships. It’s timely.

Homer-Dixon has a new book, soon to be released, called Commanding Hope: The Power We Have to Renew a World in Peril.

I’m going to order it.

While I wait for Dr. Henry’s other shoe to drop.