Twelve days ago, I tested positive for COVID 19. I removed myself from the rest of the family- my husband who was already isolated in our bedroom after testing positive and my daughter, mother and cook, who were spared. I retreated into my 100sq ft study, made a bed out of a comforter on the rug and prepared to be separated from everything and everyone else. Fortunately, my symptoms were mild and I did not need a hands on care-giver. My husband had been through his worst and was already on the road to recovery when I went into isolation.
Isolation is a bleak word.
Isolation is vulnerability-a straggling baby deer who has been separated from the herd by a cackle of hungry hyenas.
Isolation is punishment-a rebellious prisoner thrown into solitary confinement in a dank dark hole.
Isolation is a stigma- the deviant, cast out from the tribe, banished from everything known and loved.
Isolation is never pleasant. Yet, it has never been more necessary than during the current Pandemic. We are already in a world where social distance is the norm, where physical disengagement from others is an essential condition for our own survival. During the lockdown months, we drew into ourselves, sometimes voluntarily, often unwillingly, hibernating in our homes, waiting for the summer of our discontent to pass. When the rules were relaxed, we rushed to greet others, like liberated prisoners of war, as though the lockdown had been just an unnatural pause in our constant journey towards connection and closeness with others.
The human condition is essentially a struggle between two deeper needs pulling us in opposite directions with equal force. The poet philosopher David Whyte calls it ,” Our often exhausting desire to belong with our fellow humans and our longing for solitude, for being left completely and utterly alone, trawling the deep riches of an inner peace and quiet.”
In the beginning of the isolation, I felt these forces. I constantly checked the phone to see who had messaged, which of my fellow humans showed care and concern, who connected and who had switched off. I wondered whether to inform some colleagues and friends about my condition. I wondered what the rest of my family was doing. I waited for phone calls that never came.
My significance, it seemed, depended on the world outside the room where I had sequestered myself and it was imperative that I access this world as often as possible to assure myself that I still existed.
Yet, the world carried on perfectly well without me.
It was this beautiful indifferent world that permitted me to discover the other side of isolation. It is not an easy or pleasant time for everyone. I cannot compare myself to those who have been severely infected by the Corona virus, those who need to be hospitalized and those who walk the dangerous tightrope between life and death. I can only speak about the experience of being sick and alone, yet well enough for self- care.
Some of us are more naturally inclined to being on our own. The introverts will be more at ease, less prone to bouts of FOMO and more comfortable with their own presence. Others will find it a challenge in the beginning but can soon find their steady beating heart in the center of anxiety and bewilderment.
Netflix and naps help but we need more to get through long periods of isolation. Here are some of the things that I found to be useful to navigate this period.
Clean and clear your space
I would put away my bedding every morning after I woke up. I appropriated a broom to sweep the floor. My medicines were laid out neatly in a corner and I placed my cutlery and napkins on a little mat. My study is also my workspace and I made sure my desk was clean. Treat the surroundings like a sacred special spot for meeting a very important person- yourself.
Pay attention
I was fortunate to have a window in my room. This window overlooks the garden eight floors below. I could see the varying shades of green; bright on the cut grass, the mossy greens of the hedges and the dappled viridescent shrubbery that grew by the gates. I noticed the way the sunlight blazed on the blooming hibiscus flower in my neighbor’s balcony and how the same light also illuminated a trapezoid of dust particles on my brown leather couch. Attention is its own reward. Pay attention to the words in the book you are reading. Pay attention to the words that come crackling to you from across the ether. Pay attention to your breath. Attention is a rare and pure form of generosity to yourself and others.
Create a routine that allows you to break it
It is difficult to find the equilibrium between productivity and presence, the perfect balance between doing and being. I found myself struggling in the early days to find things to do that made me feel worthwhile. Yet, I also found pleasure in the luxury of idleness, of getting up late without thinking about what next, who next. I formed a routine around meal times and family times. I allowed the rest of the time to flow unchecked by the clock or calendar.
Redefine isolation as solitude
This was my vipassana retreat. My responsibility to myself and others. I choose not to think of it as a punishment meted out by a cruel virus or a social imposition to curtail my personal freedom. It is a measured response to the body’s urgent demand to slow down and find a peaceful spot to rest. When the body needs recovery, it enlists the support of the spirit. The spirit agrees to curl up quietly in a corner and just breathe, allowing nature and time to work their magic on the living cells. Give the body and soul time and space. Hold back the dark forces of despair and loneliness. Solitude is a gift in a busy relentless world. Be gentle with yourself. Allow kindness.
I have not felt a rush to be creative. Newton apparently used the enforced solitude of the Plague to firm up his scientific theories. Thoreau could write his best work, all alone in the cabin at Walden Pond. I do not expect to emerge a genius after the isolation. It is perfectly fine to just be in one place, do nothing much and go nowhere. This is what I will do for the remaining days of the quarantine.
This is what I will remember- “Going nowhere is not turning your back on the world; it is about stepping away now and then so that you can see the world more clearly and love it more deeply. “ Pico Iyer
