We're All in this Together

Hands in the soil, slightly sunburnt, stones and tools of my garden rebuild strewn about the yard I fervently wish I didn't have to clean up and go to work. "If only I could just stay home,"!
Curled into the corner of the couch, a mug of tea near my elbow, shod in wooly socks, snuggled under a down throw, I read frantically trying to learn the fate of my heroine before I must excavate myself and go to work. "If only I could just stay home,"!
March 24, 2020, here I am at home. Today is my dream life. Mario Cuomo and the Coronavirus have given me permission to stay home. They have told me to gather the essentials and then remain at my house. Going outside for exercise is ok with one or two people, but mostly, stay home.
Being free to remain at the pad is all I want all the time. Read, take naps, cook, work in the garden, do projects around the residence, then go out occasionally to run or hike with friends, take an online course in French and one on art history, write. There are so, so many things to do here at the Fort House. 
I am a lifelong do-it-yourselfer, so my hair and nails are going to survive this separation just fine. Figuring out ways to make meals with what we've got on hand is a challenge I've long embraced.
We, the sweet-loving man and I, will rebuild the back-fence, and clean out the basement. We'll sit, and in the evenings watch the sunset, and ride our bikes to the store. We have all the time we need.
Our clothes will be clean and mended because I can do that myself. We cease our projects and appreciate the late afternoon sunlight as it slants through the clouds. 
I imagine this is what retirement will be like, except that then  we will travel too. I revel in the opportunity to tend my garden, live slowly, and connect with loved-ones from my couch.
This crisis has the components of a life that I would design for myself. If only there weren't the rest of the world to consider.
My dream scenario is someone else's nightmare. People who thrive on contact are struggling. Those with depression are finding isolation a petri dish for negative thoughts.
Many folks are already struggling financially, families who depend on school breakfast and lunch programs, many around the world who live paycheck to paycheck.
Imagine, an abusive relationship where work or school is the only escape. What sort of hell must quarantine be?
Then some are sick or taking care of the sick. Those who work in "essential" industries like grocery stores, paid minimum wage with no health care, are on the front lines if the war on disease and economic downturn. Elders in nursing homes and rehab facilities are not allowed visitors any longer. I try to imagine the dread they are living with.
For so many, this is a time of great fear and uncertainty.
So, I ask myself, how do I live a useful life during this crisis? The answer is that I don't get to stay home and garden and take online classes and keep my head down.
In these circumstances living a rich life is being of service. I have set myself the goal of reaching out to three people a day.
We have enough right now, so I am donating to causes like local food banks. I am going to investigate sewing masks for local hospitals.
Ah, to pull in and isolate, to keep to myself and take care of me and mine but, that's not the way of richness, of artful living. Taking this PAUSE to connect and be of service is.

Guyot's Hill pause.