Body and Spirit
When my mind is a blank, a remembered fragment of spiritual
direction suggests I pay attention to my body. OK. I have itchy wrists from sun
allergy, muscle knots lining my right shoulder blade, and, perhaps related to
this, a tingly numbness in my right forearm alternating with achiness there.
None of this is of any great import, certainly not
life-threatening. But they keep my attention focused on these little things,
distracting me from thinking about the risks I took today to see my friends in
person. And they keep me from dwelling on the Covid tests I took today. Even
remembering them I dwell on the physical discomfort, instead of appreciating
how scary it was for me to acknowledge the reality of this disease enough to
get tested for it. To acknowledge that I have factors raising my risk of dying
from this if I do catch it, and to remember that people have caught it despite
taking all the precautions.
There is no assured safety, even if I am in the 90th
percentile of precaution-taking. Invisible particles of virus land where they
will and follow their own imperatives. All I can do is the best I can without
driving myself crazy. Take all sustainable precautions, and reach out for as
much of my normal B.C. life for which I’m willing to bear the risks. And, of
course, reach out to help my friends maintain their sanity within their chosen
levels of risk avoidance.
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