There are books to read and movies to watch. But if there is no close friend or significant other to share my passions then something not viral starts to wither and die. Compared to those who cannot get the care they need or even those dying, this sense of aloneness seems selfish and petty. What most everyone is experiencing but their own reflection of the dire truth is that we are ultimately alone. My friends with children are climbing the walls and my friends sitting alone are going nuts. Yet what is it we all want? Time.

 

By Edith Lazenby

Today during this pandemic, we are all doing what we can, hopefully, to honor what is sacred: life.

Now the time we have feels boxed because the pandemic has each of us contained and isolated, for the most part, and in that huge gift box of life the most precious thing we can offer another is our time.

Many are working, I know. Basically they are giving all of us who aren’t working—their time. Some are doctors, others are truck drivers while some work retail to keep the heart of our country alive so all of us can survive…and again, thrive.

Some have families and children. Others, like me, are alone except for friends and I do know the saying that our friends are the family we choose.

Family is sacred because even if we don’t like our whole family that blood that connects any family runs thick. And though many relationships are replaceable, as far as function goes, family is not. Yet in this coronavirus time I can’t be with family and I can’t hang with friends. The time I have that I long to give to someone special is now all mine.

And though my reach is broad to the lives I touch, as most are, that inner desire pulses and drives me to look at what is sacred to me, and how do I honor what that is.

I have my poetry and yoga.

There are books to read and movies to watch. But if there is no close friend or significant other to share my passions then something not viral starts to wither and die. Compared to those who cannot get the care they need or even those dying, this sense of aloneness seems selfish and petty.

What most everyone is experiencing but their own reflection of the dire truth is that we are ultimately alone. My friends with children are climbing the walls and my friends sitting alone are going nuts. Yet what is it we all want? Time. What is the biggest gift I can offer or request from another but their time and attention.

Then there is intention. Intention is the sun in time’s sky that should be positive and function for the growth of nature, or relationships. I know for me an intention that is conscious makes all the difference. In fact, if someone has no intention then she or he may as well be unconscious.

And many people can be unconscious, like those not adhering to the guidelines brought to everyone’s attention due to the coronavirus. They can put many unnecessarily in danger though I do believe most are trying their best.

What about the intention of a friend, or a lover or husband or wife? Too often I find we can all be careless when care is what is needed most.

I know my hunger pushes others away at times while it draws some to me—those who see the passion, strength and focus within my wants and needs. Yet kind of like my friends at Target who are putting themselves on the line, risking all because of what they need but also because it is what the country needs.

Now the plague is pushing all of us against our own needs.

This pandemic is challenging us as individuals and as a group. We all have to give more than before as we live in fear for our lives and our loved one’s lives. We worry about our livelihood. We worry about our country and the world.

Nothing is promised. But those of us not working have lots of time to help keep others from running out of time.

 

Edith Lazenby is a teacher and a writer. She believes in taking risks, having fun, and embracing the people she meets along the way.
 

 

 

 

Photo: Pixabay

Editor: Dana Gornall

 

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