Covid-19 (Day 16 of Self-Isolation)

In the year of the Plague it's all fine and dandy for a while and then cranky sets in. I'm trying to drag myself out of it. Irritated with myself - but not with others who are valiantly doing their very best - as we all are. Counting the blessings ain't working today. Most days, well yes. I'm not perfect (surprise, surprise).

I believe in the concept of Gaia. And have for a very long time. The hypothesis is explained quite well here, James Lovelock, in the sixties wrote extensively about it.

Here's a good summary:

The Gaia theory posits that the Earth is a self-regulating complex system involving the biosphere, the atmosphere,
the hydrospheres and the pedosphere, tightly coupled as an evolving system. The theory sustains that this system as a
whole, called Gaia, seeks a physical and chemical environment optimal for contemporary life.[1]
Gaia evolves through a cybernetic feedback system operated unconsciously by the biota, leading to broad
stabilization of the conditions of habitability in a full homeostasis. Many processes in the Earth's surface essential for
the conditions of life depend on the interaction of living forms, especially microorganisms, with inorganic elements.
These processes establish a global control system that regulates Earth's surface temperature, atmosphere composition
and ocean salinity, powered by the global thermodynamic desequilibrium state of the Earth system.[2]
The existence of a planetary homeostasis influenced by living forms had been observed previously in the field of
biogeochemistry, and it is being investigated also in other fields like Earth system science. The originality of the
Gaia theory relies on the assessment that such homeostatic balance is actively pursued with the goal of keeping the
optimal conditions for life, even when terrestrial or external events menace them

I've often been labelled a crackpot for believing this planet is a self-healing organism, wondrous in its capacity to adjust and correct and attempt now and again to throw us parasites off into kingdom come in a desperate effort to revert to its natural balance.

And now here we are, a world slowly falling silent. Skies clean, oceans breathing. Factories ceasing to belch. Gas fumes not spewing from silent cars. Everyone looking at larders, looking at minimums, decrying excess. Getting comfortable (or not) with their own vibrations.

Taking time to think.
To ponder individual journeys to this point.

This crackpot apologizes to Gaia every morning in meditation.

We have dug deeply into her core, she is bruised and bleeding but her weapons are far, far mightier than ours.

She will help us huddled masses to heal.

If we listen to her.

Lunch

Two friends came for lunch today. Odd that in I met each of them individually and then discovered a few years later that they were best friends.

It was a four and half hour lunch. I love these extended meals, they are far too rare. I made my African soup which is a meal unto itself. And my home made Irish bread, ham salad, potato salad, egg salad. One of them had been on sick leave suffering from major depression but she brought her guitar with her. And said to us if there is anywhere to start playing again, it is here. And I was so touched.

What I took note of in myself, because these friends are so dear, was that I was able to talk about my losses in the present, the impact each had on my life and cry a little but not in that deep anguish of the past. We all conferred about how unprepared we were for loss. The only way to transform it is to do one good thing to compensate when the grief hits.

And K sang this:



There's such comfort in shared memories and recognizing as well that we have each other in the present and can be open and loving to each other. Like a rebirth. And talk of rainbows and kids.

My friend is a magnificent singer. Truly awesome. She sang Gordon Lightfoot's "Bitter Green", another Kristofferson and then this with her own folky heartbreak alto spin on it:



She was completely restored when she left.

As were we all.

Letting Go

Glorious sun in the clouds this past Sunday.

If there's one thing I've learned in this long eventful life, it's that it's fine to say one has let go of hurts or slights or losses, it's another for them to be permanently banished. Right?

I suppose the pain gets a little easier but never quite vanishes.

There are loved ones I think of every day. Even though to all intents and purposes they do not appear to love me. My thoughts are not obsessive, don't get me wrong. Not at all. But kind thoughts go out, love is sent and light is imagined surrounding them.

I have this little thing I do. Daily, I'm out on the shore with the dog (and oh yeah, today was her first 2013 paddle in the ocean, spring HAS to be here now!) And I pick up stones from the beach for these loved ones. And I name them. There were a few today. The number varies as relationships wax and wane and evolve. And the odd time I pick up a stone for my mother, or my granny, seeking the wisdom of the ages. And then I whisper a name into each stone and toss them one by one into the water. Sending love. Kind thoughts. Healing. Joy. Contentment.

And I go on my way.

At peace with the world.