Quarantine Diary #3

I really admired my paternal grandparents.

They had basically nothing, but they gave a lot. 

My granddad was staunchly religious and avidly Seventh-Day Adventist. He read his bible and Ellen White literature in equal parts every day. He was dogmatic and domineering, and disagreeing with him was tantamount to disagreeing with God. But he was very generous. He worked tirelessly for widows and those less fortunate in his church community, helping with house maintenance, stacking wood, and bringing trailer loads of cheap fruit from Hawke's Bay to Palmerston North each year, at cost, so fresh fruit and preserves could be available to everyone.

Meet Ron Brooking, my dad's dad

He was much loved in the SDA Palmy circles, and throughout the country. Like a good Adventist, he worked for many years at the Sanitarium Factory, and like the curmudgeon he was, I heard stories that he even used to go into the factory on Christmas Day, as he saw parties and celebrating as idle frivolity. 

He was the personification the protestant work ethic. He dedicated his life to putting his faith into action, and he was an inspiration to many. For most of my life, he would get up at 4am and go and sort out mail and the Longburn Post Office, come home for breakfast, then head off to the Strawbridge's farm to go and do [some blokey thing that usually involved hammering or sawing]. He was always on the go, unless he was reading and having worship. He came down to Wellington a few times and helped dad split wood and water blast our family home, he didn't really care about seeing us, but he was all about GETTING.SHIT.DONE. 

He would give blood every three months without fail, telling the nurse to take an extra pint because he felt fine. 

He gave to the church, faithfully paying tithe and giving extra, and he also gave to ADRA - the World Vision of the Adventist world. 

My first job after uni was with ADRA in Laos, and he was never more proud of me as he was when I was working for them. I neglected to mention that we were 'just' helping the less fortunate and not giving them bible studies or proselytising, because we would've been kicked out of the country. Granddad would not have liked that - he was all about helping - but letting you know just how good his God was in the process. 

My Nana was also very generous - one of many examples of her generosity is when she sent me US$100 with a letter when I was living in Laos. It happened to be the same month my passport and half my pay had been stolen, so it was very welcomed and help me survive until the end of the month, when next I got paid.

Nana, me, Jared, Tina and Aunty Diane

My grandparents lived very modestly, and shopped mostly at charity shops. My granddad's hobby was picking up a bargain at the auctions in Palmerston North, and so their home was filled with a quirky array of paraphernalia.

Their ability to live on the smell of an oily rag and simultaneously give generously amazed me. 

We used to go and stay a lot at their house when we were growing up. One time when I was about 7 or 8, I was playing in Granddad's room and discovered a stash of $1 and $2 coins, hundreds of dollars worth in neat stacks, all saved up for 13th Sabbath offering where Granddad gave generously to mission work. 

I had a Michael hill advertisement catalogue with me that I had brought from home, because even at 7, I was a magpie and idolised shiny things. I noticed that there were a bunch of things on sale, and realised that I only had to take a few coins to be able to afford one of the beautiful necklaces. 

I crept back into the room with the coins and filled my little wallet with as many as it could hold. 

Unfortunately that is where my cunning ran out. I was not a very good thief and when I got caught, I was interrogated about where I had gotten the coins from. I confessed and sobbed as my Nana told me if she wanted to, she could call the police and send me to jail. I was mortified! I adored my Nana and I hated that she thought less of me. I also hated that I was dumb enough to get caught. 

Less so, I hated that I didn't get my shiny thing. Here they were sitting on a stash of money, and I just wanted a shiny thing, and I couldn't have it. 

'That money was destined for the less fortunate, Lauren, not you. You are not less fortunate because you don't have shiny things. Beauty does not come from outward adornment, but instead it should come from your inner self, your character, Lauren. That is the beauty that we want for you.' The words of my grandmother reverberate through my mind to this day.

This priority of theirs to live in what I think was mostly optional poverty, living frugally and then still having a surplus, something to give away was something I grew to admire about them. 

I have been trying for some time to replicate it but my wanton desires for shiny things and travelling to the far corners of the world have stymied me. Hopefully one day, I can live up to their legacy of generosity. 

This legacy of generosity has lived on in them, and also in their family. This fundamental belief of 'if you can help, then you should help, and if you can't help, then arrange your life in such a way that you can.' has shaped who I am as a person. I have an obsession with helping people and being part of the 'greater good'. 

And so at a time when the Individual is god and in a large cosmopolitan city where it's all work (though not for me) and latent panic, I have taken a leaf out of my grandparents handbook and reached out. 

I doubt anyone will respond, but it was really important to me that I offer it. I have surpluses in time, in health, and in movement at the moment. And while there's a voice in my head chastising me for finding ever more creative ways to procrastinate from the book I'm writing, I think this is important. 

And so I have created lame puns, and made cards for everyone in our building letting them know that if they need, we can help them. 

I say this not to blow my own trumpet. Sure, I like to help, and I think other people should extend the same offer but the more I thought about it, the more I asked myself - what is the alternative? Try and ride this out by ourselves?

Even from a pragmatic standpoint, if those who are needing to self-isolate don't have enough to eat, or don't have someone to go to the pharmacy for them, then they're likely to do it themselves, and then what? They're like to cough while they're out, then touch something or someone, and leave traces of their germs everywhere they've been. That is then going to infect more people - possibly the chemists or the doctors or the supermarket staff - the people we need most right now. 

Further in the pragmatic department - if Jared and I have to self-isolate and we have made some connections in the building, hopefully people can return the favour if needed. 

So it is not only happy-go-lucky altruistic warm fuzzies I'm after - it is the speedy return to some version (a better version?) of life as we know it. If we reach out to those around us - hopefully the next version contains more neighbours, more friends, and ample health for all.

(Then we can get stuck into fixing the planet 🌎)

 There is not much that has stuck with me from my 1st year Anthropology lectures, but one word did - 'communitas'. As coined by Victor Turner in 1969, it is the idea that people that are going through a particular event together - whether it be a short term thing like a hike or camp or a weekend trip, or a rite of passage like graduating school or college, or a colleague will form a heightened bond, more than just normal societal bonds. You have a shared experience and that is the basis of your relationship, it draws you together. The more difficult the experience, the deeper the bond. 

Though I wasn't there, I think this typifies what happened during the World Wars. This explains the camaraderie of soldiers. Everyone had a broad 'rite of passage' shared experience and there was a collective coming together, a communitas for the good of the nation, sacrificing sons-turned-soldiers, rationing food, making clothes out of flour sacks, and countless other sacrifices were made to ensure that the Allies won and freedom was retained. (Although likely the 'losers' also made such sacrifices, and more). 

There's been little to collectively bond over since then really. A couple of stock market crashes, but the victims of that were invisible, not dying in their thousands by the day. 

I think we're about to enter a time of quite great suffering, and you're going to need some people to lean on, and you're going to need to be OK with leaning on other people. For cabin fever, video chat drinks and some light relief from the boredom, but also for medical supplies, food, fears, and fever if it comes to it. I hope I am wrong, but this right now feels like the tide going out before a tsunami surges. How great the suffering later largely depends on how magnanimous the actions now. Either way, this is bigger than any of us, and the only way past it is through.

It is amazing how much your perspective can change in even just a few days. I have been operating on a scarcity mentality for awhile now, and trying to infuse it with gratefulness. I've found that when the headlines are '150 000 people lose jobs overnight' and 'thousands more die today' it does compel one to gratitude for what you still have, very quickly. 

Scarcity: Panic buys

Obviously there are limitations to abundance thinking, and like most binaries, the middle ground between the two is probably the most balanced, honest place, but energy goes where focus flows. There is something soothing about counting your blessings even when the walls of society as we know it are starting to crack. 

When you can articulate the things you have to be grateful for, it changes your perspective and all that warm fuzzy stuff, but it also literally rewires your brain. If nothing else, I always think to myself - what's the alternative? In this case, be ungrateful, scared and anxious, eternally wallowing the quagmire of my own thoughts? 

We'll give gratitude and helping others a go and see where we end up a?

Where am I going with all this? We are heading in a direction where we need relentless kindness with ourselves and with others. We've been schooled into a consumerist type mentality that highlights what we don't have, in order to sell us more. But you and I, we do actually already have a lot. So start thinking about what you can spare - be it your time, your money, your effort, your love. 

And like the story of the traveller...

Knowing Jesus is Everything, Alejandro Bullon, pg 74

(Obviously metaphorical huddling together. Stay the fuck away from everyone.)

What can you give? Who can you help? Who needs it most? You can't make someone accept help, but certainly you can offer what you are willing to give.

This is a template people are using to inform people who might need help. It was started by a lovely girl in the UK, and has now spread as far as Australia. New Zealand even has a tailor-made template. 

Here are some other ideas of how people are collaborating and helping others out during this weird time. 

The only way we get through this is together. Physically apart - I can't stress that enough - but socially together.

[Update: Made friends with the lawyer next door]