Day Twenty Four

A picture is worth 1,000 words.

So I’ll try to keep the word count down.

With the generous permission of artist Morgan Penn, I am able to use this wonderful painting, which seems to perfectly capture reaction to what’s happening in our world right now.

 Art is so important to our spirits and whether you are looking at paintings, ceramics or sculpture, it can remind you of the human strength and love needed to make beautiful things...even during dark times such as this.   

Please go look at Morgan's paintings, so many of which remind us of what we can look forward to when all this chaos is over.

 Family, friendships and enjoyment of the wider world.   http://www.morganpenn.com

This month, some of us were able to see the Super Moon as it came as close to the Earth as  ever it gets.  It looks almost as if we could leap and touch it.

Astronomers call this the perigee but in different parts of the world, the Full Moon has more evocative names.

America’s First Peoples  called it Fish Moon, The Sprouting Grass Moon and the Egg Moon, as these reflected what was happening in nature at the time. The Pink Moon referred to the time that Pink Phlox was in bloom.

In Maori mythology, we read about Rona the Lady in the Moon. She was on her way to fetch water when the moon went behind a cloud, causing her to trip over the roots of a Ngaio tree. 

Picking herself up, she used a few uncomplimentary words and the moon, hearing this, snatched her up and would not let her go.

The picture is from  a 1935 stamp in the Alexander Turnbull Museum.

Many year ago, when I used to go fishing, we stuck closely to the Maori Fishing calendar which advised when, where and how to fish.  

He would call me when an especially dark, Tangaroa-kiokio night was due, usually towards the end of a month.

We would go out to sea and sit in blessed, peaceful silence as the tide turned and the fish began to bite. 

We always returned the first catch to Tangaroa, Maori god of the sea.  We took only what we could comfortably eat, throwing all other fish back.

To sit in a small boat (it was big enough only for two), in the middle of a still ocean and watch the sun rise majestically from the water, is an experience not to be missed.   It is no wonder ancient people worshipped the sun as it daily brought the world back to life after hours of darkness.

That’s a reminder that after our Tangaroa night of Covid-19, dawn will return.

There you go,  less than 500 words and 4 lovely pictures. 

Day Twenty Three

In fact, it’s Day Thirty for me.
I was already locked down with a sick friend before Level 4 was declared but when it was announced, we had to scurry back to our nests.

Isolation isn’t easy. 

Such a drastic change from normal routine is stressful for any human, even those who, like me, enjoy their own company.

Richard S Lazarus , Professor Emeritus at the University of California, defined stress as,

‘a condition or feeling experienced when a person perceives that the demands exceed the personal and social resources the individual is able to mobilise.’  

Of course he’d put it like that, he’s a Professor !   

A simpler explanation of stress is 'when  we feel we are no longer in total control of our lives.'    And who does at the moment? 

This can apply to any life-change, even the mostly good ones such as getting married, graduating, getting a new job,  or moving to a new house.

When the changes are negative and against our will, the stress moves up a notch. 

When we see the world as we know it, spiralling into sickness and death,  then,  as during war it can strain us to our maximum capacity.

This is why I began writing this Blog. Not because I am relentlessly cheerful or wilfully ignoring what’s going on around me,  far from it.  

It affects me deeply and that is why I  knew I would need a way of coming to terms with a world turned upside down.

 Writing has always been my way of coping and the diary I’ve written for over 40 years has been my safety valve, confidant and companion.

It is very different from this Blog. 

The purpose of The Lockdown Diaries is to remind myself and those who care to read it, that there are still useful and positive things to do,  even when surrounded by  immense human misery.

It’s at these times we need to remember the good stuff.  

 I’ve heard a lot about the human spirit triumphing as it did in World War Two;  about people helping people and giving selflessly.

Yorkshire born, Captain Tom Moore has become the embodiment of this spirit as he walks round his English garden raising millions for the British Health Service.

 As he continues towards his 100^th birthday, bravely using his walker as support, we can choose to wonder why it’s necessary for a courageous old soldier to prop up an under-funded service  - or we can applaud his determination and optimism.

I choose to applaud.   

   

  Covid-19 may be ever-present but if we dwell exclusively on the horror, we lose sight of the hope.