Hope and trust are the foundation of patience…
Even so, after sacrificing in isolation for over a month, endurance is wearing thin for many. More than boredom, it's the haunting apparition of powerlessness that plagues us. Worry about the economy, governmental controls, and lack of personal freedom somehow begin to outstrip a microscopic enemy that silently robs people of life. Now, as death bells toll for nursing homes, health care centers, and in every corner of the world, we are inpatient.
There is a sense that we have to do something more than sit inside. So desperate to get things back to normal, our fear and anger spills over to family members, friends, social media, and to our governmental leaders. Several days ago a dangerous gathering of crowded protesters blocked traffic into a hospital threatening the lives of sick people in ambulances. Unmasked, they carried potential infections back home putting countless others at risk of viral exposure. It appears that some of us may have forgotten that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.
Henri Nouwen once asked three important questions as he pondered the illusions of power over unmanageable situations:
What keeps us from opening to the reality of the world?
Could it be that we cannot accept our powerlessness and are only wiling to see those wounds that we can heal?
Could it be that we do not want to give up our illusion that we are masters over the world and, therefore, create our own Disneyland where we can make ourselves believe that all events of life are safely under control?
If each of us seriously considered these questions and responded from our hearts, the answers just might provide personal insight enough to maintain or regain some measure calm patience. And there is good reason to let go of our frantic need to command the uncontrollable. Our Coronavirus Task Force provided guidelines on Thursday, March 16 that each state and municipality can use to plot a course away from our isolation (in phases). Tailored to what is specifically happening in each locale, we will gradually move back toward a more normal life. It won't happen over night and the plan will have some setbacks. But now is the time to keep our wits about us.
“Any man’s death diminishes me,
because I am involved in mankind.
And therefore never send to know for whom
the bell tolls; it tolls for thee. ”
Several years ago, one of my clients who had struggled mightily over addictive illness sat across from me after a most devastating relapse. It wasn't his first rodeo. Thomas had participated in several inpatient and outpatient treatment programs. From intervention to intervention he kept on trying to get well, but was never able to let go of control. He saw himself as the captain of his own ship despite the obvious observation that his vessel was like the Titanic steering toward yet another giant iceberg. His fear and anger manifested in everything he did while alienating all those who cared about him.
On that day in my office, however, he was finally ready to hand over his illness to somebody else. Tom had become eager to do the inside and outside work necessary to heal. He told me that it was as if he had been playing football on a field with no hash marks for years. Now, he could see it was "fourth and goal with some remaining time to kick." He got well, and lives his new normal with incredible joy. Tom spends lots of time volunteering in his community and is devoted to his family and friends.
“We are tied together in the single garment of destiny, caught in an inescapable network of mutuality. And whatever affects one directly affects all indirectly. ”
There is no reason to think we would have different outcomes from Toms when it comes to our dealing with the pandemic. When we really accept the premise that we are all in this together, let go of our controlling worried fears, and be patient, good things are bound to happen. We will have a new and bigger experience of life. I have every reason to hope and trust that all shall be well, that all manner of things shall be well.