This is the fourth day that the UK has been on lockdown, yet it feels like is has been an eternity already. I guess it is some comfort to know that a quarter of the world’s population is also under lockdown, but if anything that doesn’t do much to ease the passage of time.
Like many other people I have been spending my time doing things I set aside for a rainy day, finishing craft projects, doing some painting, reading some books. And, like many others, I have spent some time cleaning and sorting my room. I got rid of four bin bags worth of rubbish and also a lot of recycling, and that was before I put stuff to the side for charity. Through the process I realised that I have held onto and hoarded a lot of useless things over the years. From clothes I will never wear again to jewellery that is far to small to go around my wrists. There was just an exorbitant amount of stuff in my room that I no longer needed. It was like I had put everything aside to one day make some kind of nest for myself. Maybe I pictured myself like Smaug in the Hobbit, surrounded by years’ worth of hoarded treasure; except my treasure was old ticket stubs. And I also didn’t kill loads of people to steal any of it.
What it made me realise was how materialistic I have become over the years, and how selfish I have been with my possessions. The reason for my selfishness was the worry that perhaps one day I will need it. Perhaps someday I will need that dress that is too small for me, or the box full of unused craft supplies. But keeping them for myself didn’t bring me joy or comfort. Instead it brought me more anxiety.
This epiphany has been building up for a few days, and was also brought on by my first venture outside after self-isolation. As I stood in the back garden, I noticed something bizarre I has never encountered before. A serene stillness. It wasn’t silent so much, but I could hear nothing manmade. There were no cars in the distance or trains, and there were no planes in the sky. The only sounds I could hear were those of nature; the birds in the trees, the wind blowing through the plants, and the first bumblebees beginning to collect nectar. It reminded me of Matthew 6:25-34, in which Jesus teaches not to worry about material possessions and what we eat and drink. Verse 34 finishes the passage saying:
Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.
This teaching is particularly poignant in these times, when we see panic buying and ‘doomsday prepping’ clearing the supermarkets of food, and everyone clamouring to order groceries for delivery. So much so that the vulnerable in our communities are struggling to get by. So what has driven us to buy out all stocks of food? Is it intense greed and selfishness? Have we been inside our own spaces so long that we have forgotten about the existence of other humans? No. I believe it is intense anxiety and uncertainty about what is to come. But if we live our lives by anxiety we will end up drowning in that anxiety, and amongst all of the food and possessions we have stockpiled. We should remember that others are also anxious, and that perhaps they don’t have the luxury of going shopping daily. Hoarding things won’t prolong your life, it will just add fuel to any worry you already have. This crisis will end, but we must attempt to live from a place of gratitude and peace, and not a place of anxiety.
When I think back to stepping out into the garden a few days ago, I am struck by how nature continued as it would. The birds and bees continue to behave normally. I can’t imagine what would happen if this virus was infecting them too. Perhaps some Alfred Hitchcock like nightmare. But, amongst our anxiety, sometimes we need to pause and appreciate the world around us. We have time now to ourselves, but we shouldn’t be driven to loneliness and anxiety. Use this time to evaluate your way of life and to be still. It may be difficult in a time of turbulence, but it is one thing we can all learn to be better at.
To end, I have one final thought I gleaned from my room tidying. Amongst all the hoarded items, I also found notes and letters I had held onto from friends, some of which had been given to me as encouragement through some difficult passages in my life. It reminded me how appreciated and loved I am by others, and how I am not alone. For if my friends stood with me through those periods of my life, they are surely standing with me in spirit now, as I am standing with them. We may be far apart from one another, but we can most definitely still be there for each other. To those people, and to everyone else in my life who has helped me through trouble, I say thank you. Your compassion is still reverberating through my life today. And in this time of turmoil, solidarity is our most important weapon, not anxiety.
Fay Dragon 