Back to the Basics
April 8, 2020
A crisis is a time to get back to the basics. Resources are limited. Energy is drained. Time is valuable. Respite is needed. Even the most cynical among us have memories of being nurtured or nurturing others. These experiences have sensory qualities and can be randomly triggered. They can also be regenerated or replicated in some shape or form, even if not to perfection.
During the recent first sunny day we’ve had in weeks — though the temperature didn’t get above 50 degrees — I sat outside with a blanket. The sun was bright and I soaked in the heat. I relaxed. I dozed. I finally believed that warmer weather was on the horizon.
Last night the refrigerator was getting bare, but I found bread, cheese, and frozen peas, which got transformed quickly into comfort food. I took a photo of the grilled cheese and sent it to my son, for whom I used to make it, and who is now far away. In the end, it tasted good, but truthfully, making it and sending the photo were the best parts of the meal.
There are several books I’ve read and re-read. I always seem to return to Naguib Mahfouz’s Cairo Trilogy and Andy Griffiths’ Schooling Around quartet. The first, by a Nobel-winning Egyptian author, is about an intergenerational family in 20th century Egypt, and tears at my heart. The second, a farcical children’s series about a beloved teacher who repeatedly falls out of the classroom window, once made me laugh so hard, when reading it to my other son, that I almost fell out of the window myself.
Everyone has their own unique versions of grilled cheese and side-splitting laughter. When life gets frightening, as it most certainly is now, it’s important to return to those sensory experiences. If you reflect on the happiest times in your life, you’ll be able to better understand what made them important. The people or circumstances may no longer be physically here, but the essence of those experiences remains. I can still smell the musty elevator leading to my grandmother’s Brooklyn apartment from 40 years ago. I can feel my son’s arm draped around my neck while sitting atop a Utah canyon at sunrise. I can feel the soil burrowing into my fingernails from the first vegetable garden I planted, just two years ago. I instantly smile when thinking about my spouse channeling the dog’s voice and complaining about how the cats get all the attention.
I’m not old or young, but right in the middle. What I’ve learned so far is that it’s the small moments that give value to life. A time of crisis is a time to simplify and get back to the basics. Take time to reflect on those small moments which have given your life meaning. Reach out to a person who contributed to one of those moments, and let him or her know. Slowly re-read a favorite book, or carefully listen to the harmony in a favorite song. Sit with a blanket in the sun.
This blog post originally appeared on the Carthage College website. It has been republished with permission.