Covid-19 – micheleplumbstowell.org

216 Thank you, COVID-19, on this Winter Solstice

In this the darkest day in the northern hemisphere we can express our gratitude that spring will come. “Thank you, for the Light!”

Guest Article
By Kwami Nyamidie

As we celebrate the winter solstice, we thank you, COVID-19, for giving us an opportunity to experience our inter-connectedness, even if it meant we had to walk through the valley of frustration, sorrow, and death.

History will remember 2020 as one of the years in human history when a virulent pandemic brought the world again to its knees.

COVID-19 Long term effects

Some 1.69 million infected patients around the globe have succumbed to COVID-19. Like a devastating hurricane, the relentless SARS-CoV-2 virus has left in its aftermath several millions of people whose lives have been turned upside down, suffering with mysterious long-term effects.

Gregory Poland, M.D., head of Mayo Clinic’s Vaccine Research Group in Rochester, Minnesota, describes these as “the significant cellular level damage this virus can cause.” There’s lasting injury to heart muscles, long term harm to the air sacs in the lungs, and impairment to the brain leading sometimes to seizures, strokes, and temporary paralysis.

Gregory Poland Gregory Poland, M.D., head of Mayo Clinic’s Vaccine Research Group in Rochester, Minnesota, describes the long term effects of the wicked virus.

COVID-19 Economic, Social, and Political Impact

This minuscule virus’s economic, social, and political toll has equally been devastating. Lockdowns have affected travel of all kind. As it peaked in different counties in the United States, religious gatherings, businesses, schools, and non-essential government agencies were closed. Some businesses have been permanently swept away.

Unemployment has rendered some families homeless. Some can’t feed their families. Some political leaders have lost power because of their inadequate handling of the pandemic that blindsided them. Grandparents couldn’t play with their grandchildren. Thousands couldn’t visit their loved ones isolated in clinics or hospitals in intensive care units. There was no time for relatives and friends to grieve the dead in this year like no other.

Cars Line Up For Hours, Waiting For Food Distribution At Pittsburgh International Airport

Breath of Death or Breath of Life

How is it possible that such a virus originating from Wuhan, China, can infect so many people from almost all countries in just a year? Yes, some remote Pacific Island states including Kiribati, Tuvalu, and the Cook Islands have succeeded, so far, in shielding their territories from the virus’s scourge.

The United States Centers for Disease Control and Prevention web site explains how the virus spreads: “When people with COVID-19 cough, sneeze, sing, talk, or breathe they produce respiratory droplets. These droplets can range in size from larger droplets (some of which are visible) to smaller droplets. Small droplets can also form particles when they dry very quickly in the airstream.”

Spreading on the wings of breath, SARS-CoV-2 turned what brings life into the carrier of death. And in its capacity to spread like wild fire, has given us a clearer understanding of our inter-connectedness.

For thousands of years, wise men and women have revealed to us that we human beings are interrelated at our very core. But this remains a difficult concept for us to grasp. How can you be connected to 7.8 billion people all over the world?

Aloha Spirit

The Hawaiian word “Aloha” expresses a range of feelings that include: “love, affection, gratitude, kindness, pity, compassion, grief, the modern common salutation at meeting.” It can also mean “goodbye.” Aloha has no exact translation in the English language. A deeper meaning of the word emerges from the two words “alo” which means “sharing”, or sometimes “coming together” and “ha”, which means “breath, life energy.” Aloha Spirit symbolizes the understanding that the nearly eight billion people alive today share the same breath. That is the basis for our love for one another.

An attempt at explaining The Meaning of Aloha . Celebration of our unity during the Winter Solstice

In 2016, HuffPost published an article on Buddhism. It explained that “When Buddha gained enlightenment, it was the realization that inter-connectedness is the true nature of all beings. We are not only connected to other people, but to the air through our breathing and to the universe through light.” The air we breathe is a primary channel of our connection.

If it took about one year for the virus to be carried to millions infected through the medium of human breath, it’s easy to see that the air we breathe in an average lifespan of 75 or so years can circulate several times through may be 99% of the entire human race.

But “breath” is not just air. It’s energy. It’s prana, the force that animates us.

COVID-19 helps us realize that we’re connected at the energetic level through breath to all human beings and that what we transmit can affect others. Mother Nature has designed an experiment to prove to us that we are connected through breath. The corollary of this insight is that if we send out positive energy through our breath, it will go to the entire world for good.

Winter Solstice: “Thank you, for the Light!”

How do we do that? When we fill our minds with positive thoughts, they imprint our breaths for the good of us all. As you flood your awareness with words of love, and peace, and gratitude, your breath, instead of spreading a virus, sends out a sound, which is a vibration. The vibration turns into energy that circulates the world.

This Winter Solstice Day, and throughout this holiday season, is an appropriate time to test this for ourselves. In this the darkest day in the northern hemisphere we can express our gratitude that spring will come. “Thank you, for the Light!” Just us we shall come out of the darkness of the winter solstice, so we shall rise out of the Shadow from the Valley of Death, in whatever way this appears darkness appears to us.

A magical mantra for nurturing a blissful life | JayaShri Maathaa Thank you, COVID-19, on this Winter Solstice

Let these words spring out from our lips as we wake up in the morning. Let them stimulate our minds throughout the day. As we take our turns in queues, as we wait for our smartphones or computers to restart, or update or download, as we get ready for the traffic light to change let us remember to express gratitude for the light that never fails. “Thank you, for the Light!”

Gratitude for the Silver Linings

Let us be grateful for all the silver linings that COVID-19 (caused by the SARS-CoV-2 virus) brought us even as we are kicking and screaming.

109 Christian Dior Nightgown: Saving, Waiting, and Balance

Grandma cared for the nightgown like it was a precious jewel…Christian Dior was the clothing of royalty. So when she died, maybe a dozen years after receiving the gift, the new gown was neatly folded in the drawer, worn once.

When I was young, Mom bought a Christian Dior nightgown for Grandma F at Christmas. Although I do not actually know anything about Christian Dior, apparently the name alone was worth the one hundred dollar price tag. That seems like a lot of money for a fuzzy, pink, floor length nightie, and it was even more, comparably, back then.

Grandma opened the gift and was literally flabbergasted. She didn’t speak. She nearly cried. Maybe I missed something? The nightgown meant the world to her. Mom made her promise to wear it that night.

That was likely the only evening that it saw sheets.

Grandma cared for the nightgown like it was a precious jewel. She lived in the same small house, built with the supplies available during war time, for at least four decades. She wore clothes that made sense, polyester, because you need not iron them. She worked for a church, paid cash for her brand new, Plymouth Duster, and was frugal, yet entirely thoughtful and generous.

Christian Dior was the clothing of royalty. So when she died, maybe a dozen years after receiving the gift, the new gown was neatly folded in the drawer, worn once.

Today I was in my closet. I flicked through the options. I don’t keep things I do not use or need (the exceptions, precious gifts and art). But the last few months have been a whirlwind of requirements, even if the mandate was to rest. And, as an excuse, I will add that Goodwill and other collection sites, and the stores that sell the second hand products, have been closed for Covid 19. I have several things in the closet that can be used by others now, or thrown away. They don’t fit into my current life. My current life has very different needs than the one I lived a few months back.

When we all think about the best way to live life, there is an intricate balance. And the balance shifts with the situation.

I divorced at the time when Nyasha and Shante were heading to college. The only balance in my mind, financially, was their emotional well being (retaining a sense of home), and their capability to do the dance through the educational system. Balance looked completely different than the decade before, and I certainly had no vision or interest in my own decades to come. I was required to focus.

During the Covid-19 virus pandemic, I see a lot of people dancing with decisions. The acts of saving, waiting and balance are forefront. And of priority is life. The choices they are making can mean life or death.

Some people are choosing to work in order to eat, sensible if done safely. Many work from and have children at home, and could choose to spend time in parks or playing at the beach or grabbing a board game. But they struggle with the order of things. I promise that the kids will never be young again, and I promise that you will never regain the opportunity.

Sometimes, when it comes to money, people forget to plan. They use credit to live beyond income, and forget to pay themselves first with a savings and retirement accounts that exceed ten percent of what comes in. That simple tactic, especially when a person begins it in their earlier years, will tackle emergencies and reduce life stress in an inexplicable way!

And others save too much. They over plan out of fear and do not live in the present. Covid 19 is a time to use money for safety, for balance and recreation.

What would you do if you knew you would have terminal Covid 19 in two months? And how would you change that if there was a chance of coming out of the hospital care, and beginning a new life? We are all faced with this. We should all ponder it.

What does balance look like in the world of practicality?

85 Carrot, The Cat

Ruby, a gray cat, sitting near a window — Ruby, named after a troll from Terry Pratchett’s Discworld books.

Carrot is an orange cat. He is not named for the orange root vegetable. He is named for Terry Pratchett’s character, Captain Carrot of the Guard.

And the black cat, her name is Angua (not Angela), named for his partner, a werewolf woman, also from the books. Their cat sister, a stripey gray feline, is called Ruby, who is a troll from the same set of Discworld books. Ruby is the small one, fitting for a troll.

Carrot is a ribbon addict. Obsessed. He hears the ribbon drawer open from across the house. He runs to the location at the mere thought that he might get to bite one, lick one, swallow one.

Angua, the black cat — Angua, The Black Cat

He went too far. It wasn’t a gift box ribbon though. It was a sewing ribbon that he thieved from a Covid mask. He swallowed all twelve inches of it. Another victim of the virus, he was hospitalized, had a major surgery, and now has a matching stomach wound to mine. And some of the same limitations.

I don’t feel like licking my wound, or jumping. So those are different for him. He is wearing clothes rather than the cone. Still a symbol of shame, “the cone of shame”, he doesn’t love his onesies.

An orange cat named Carrot, after Captain Carrot the Guard — Captain Carrot of the Guard

So why does this household have two “people” with major surgeries and major scars down the abdomen? What is being said here? My first google search for the spiritual meaning says that our abdomen is where we process our reality, where we learn to move things through. I synopsized. Carrot has to be an exclamation point, because he doesn’t care what we think about his spiritual meaning. He lives his spiritual meaning in every moment. Humanly, I do the same thing, but the mind and emotions and interpretation give an illusory experience that cannot relate.

There are signs. There are flashing neon signs in the form of stitches and wound packing and doctor visits. Carrot and I are doing the work. We are doing it for reality, for the Truth of all things. May no one need to join us. May this “be enough”.

76. Nursing and the Virus

MRSA is a hyper strain, and it offended me to no end that my body was attacked, because I did the right things for the planet, and others were using revved up bacterial cleaners, hand sanitizers and cleaning sprays. Nothing lived. Nothing lived except the most powerful of viruses. We were breeding strength into a biological system that begs to be soft and in balance.

Medical staff are doing medical things, coming to work every day, right in the heart of the virus. I asked a lot of questions, and listened to stories. One of the nurses sent her sons to the aunt. She didn’t want to expose them, took the risk herself, but couldn’t fathom risking her kids.

With another, the conversation went to MRSA. Almost 15 years ago, the MRSA scare streamed through the Pacific Northwest. It touched numerous lives, and some people did not make it. I am allergic to sulfa, so I came very close to exiting the planet back then. MRSA is a hyper strain, and it offended me to no end that my body was attacked, because I did the right things for the planet, and others were using revved up bacterial cleaners, hand sanitizers and cleaning sprays. Nothing lived. Nothing lived except the most powerful of viruses. We were breeding strength into a biological system that begs to be soft and in balance. (And we are doing it again. You can’t ignore that we are doing it right now, with a vengeance. No balance. No comprehension of the sacred wish for peace.)

And the nurse said Covid 19 isn’t different from MRSA. “There is always something.” There is always something that rises up to be the prevalent challenge. We are human. We are vulnerable. We work with intricate body systems that are often not supported by the environment we created, by our foods, by our lifestyles, by our incongruence with the spiritual or rational world.

Kayleen is currently working the Covid floor of Providence. If you need a nurse, Kayleen shines the perfect demeanor. The bubbly personality, the deep caring, the dedication and light. We are blessed by her acceptance of this role.

One of the scouts in my now adult troop, we have known each other almost two decades, Kayleen is just getting over having the virus. It came in like a whirlwind, and it didn’t look like the symptoms she treats in the hospital. It looked like a four day flu. And then, it was gone.

I told her, “Quit, quit now. Never go back to that job. We want you alive.” And I laughed, because she adores nursing. As an extra mother, I love her so much that I want her safe. And I love her so much that I understand her nature, and so I do not want her to leave the position that calls to her heart and soul. I do. I do not. I do. I do not.

Kayleen’s husband, Conner, never contracted it. He tested negative repeatedly. They had no idea that Kayleen had the virus, so slept in the same bed through that “flu”. She is fine, she is healthy, she has the antibodies. I am so relieved at the last part. A short lived run with Covid, and she is now armed and defended. But she still tests positive. Two negative tests before she can go back. She works on the Covid floor of the hospital. All of the patients test positive. Interesting.

75. Covid-19

A six inch swab goes in through the nostrils and strokes the brain, or, well, whatever it reaches. Probably not the brain. Probably something deep in the breathing system. It feels like the brain.

I had the test.

Before the hospital would allow me to enter for surgery, it was required. Only do the test if you are required. I think my sinuses are still suffering the ramifications.

A six inch swab goes in through the nostrils and strokes the brain, or, well, whatever it reaches. Probably not the brain. Probably something deep in the breathing system. It feels like the brain.

I was negative. For that one moment in time, and not before and not beyond, I tested negative.

59. Urgent Care

Shout out for Kaiser Urgent Care in Bellevue. They have it all. Kind people. Quick response. Every testing machine a person could ever wish to be tested on. I don’t think I’d choose another location

And here, Covid 19 pops into the equation yet again, because this is not your mother’s Buick kids, this is a whole new medical world. Overall, it has worked to my current advantage. Saturday, it meant that Kwami “left me at the curb”, a moment that would spread out and encompass nearly a week of moments.

Emotional separation. Unknowing. Visual barriering. Uncertainty.

But I digress. Next a CT scan, the obvious choice. And the forever direct information: “The colon has perforated. We will take you to surgery. Now.”

There is an odd twist in what happened there. The cancer has its own thing going on, and perforation, or holes, could well have occurred because the chemo is working well, shrinking the masses, pulling the tissue apart.

Also, surgery was originally not an option, because there was no chance of removing all of the radicals hiding in every corner, and no point to an uncertain or non existing recovery.

Without an option, there were now options. I talked to the surgeon. The lower colon would go. The colon mass would go. I gave him the green light to remove whatever he wished, and to hold no guilt for bumping the pesky lymph system as it was an already active culprit in my demise, long done.

55. Walking the Floor

Walking keeps your lungs from filling with fluid and causing pneumonia. And walking deters blood clots. There is no point in saving me from something crazy, and then letting me die from something stupid.

I am in the hospital, currently with some clarity of mind (which is questionable if you sang the Ode to Christine Colon song). The surgery was Sunday, before the dawn. Today is Thursday, May 21… hmm… I thought it was Friday. I just gained a day.

When a person hits the hospital, there is a LOT of walking. Walking keeps your lungs from filling with fluid and causing pneumonia. And walking deters blood clots. There is no point in saving me from something crazy, and then letting me die from something stupid.

For me, walking is also an energy transfer. When I am in pain, I can move the pain through and back into the earth, or away from me however that happens. This floor is a rectangular loop that has a mid section, so daredevil races with the figure eight could occur. The race is slow, very slow. Like one mile an hour might be average walking speed here. Ten laps are a mile. I walked almost two miles yesterday!

The people are trying to heal. They are hunched and gray. They cling to poles filled with IV’s and contraptions. At one point, my pole had three IVs and one contraption, the most that I have witnessed.

Each person has a story. And each room has a personality. I have tears as I type this. There is a Mr. Rodger’s type of old guy who was across the wing. Every time I passed his room, he would wave and smile. We never spoke. But he is in my heart. I could feel him there, and I loved him.

There is a woman who struggles with each step, holding a walker, but towing no drugs. She asked, “Did you have colon surgery too?” (Odd question. This is the surgical floor, ALL surgery recovery.) I said, “Yes I did”. She waited two months because of Covid 19 to have a cancerous polyp removed, and it grew an extra inch. “How are you doing so well?”, she asked. “I have been here longer; you’ll do the same.” It was her day after surgery, my fourth out.

There is a race car man, a guy I could see running marathons on the weekend. He lapped me so many times it was laughable. I bet his speed exceeded three miles per hour!

One middle aged man was dark and rageful. He wore a maroon polo and matching shorts. I never witnessed an exit from the parameters of his space, but heard him lashing out at nurses, doctors and techs as I passed on repeated loops. So much pain. So much to heal. How long had he been there? How much longer would he be required to stay?

An elderly woman was barely conscious. A young woman with long blonde hair could only traverse a short distance of floor.

Each one has a story, a very personal story. Every pain radiates into the Universal. If I focused as I walked, I would cry. Cry for the individuality, cry for the pain, cry for the beauty and the rage. I would cry because I loved the Mr. Rodgers man with all of my heart. As I crept by for the 59th time, he waved to me and smiled.

46. Don’t Hold Your Tongue

People are looking at their own mortality. If Covid-19 didn’t already bring in the uncertainty of human life, seeing that people are dying quickly around us, knowing that I have a limited number of days left has brought it to light

One of things that I have appreciated about everyone is that you have been very open, honest, and willing to ask questions. Oh my god… and share your personal experiences of what this has brought up within you!

Don’t hold your tongue. Share anything. Ask me anything. I haven’t found an area where I am unwilling to share, but I also feel like I can tell you that I will get back to you on something later, or just that I don’t want to go there. Sometimes I don’t know an answer or haven’t looked within in an area that you question, so you help me grow.

Beautiful words of gratitude flood my world, words coming to me from others. Thank you!

There are common threads.

People are reliving their own cancer experiences or health struggles. I am certainly looking at the people in my life who have had this challenge!

People are looking at their own mortality. If Covid 19 didn’t already bring in the uncertainty of human life, seeing that people are dying quickly around us, knowing that I have a limited number of days left has brought it to light. It’s never a bad idea to look at the technical side, quickly jot down a will, power of attorney, medical power of attorney, and get them notarized. (I can share formats!) And then move to the spiritual. Or do it simultaneously, better. We all have a limited number of days; we always had a limited number of days . I am the lucky one, because it clarifies the vastness for me, and thins the veil. There isn’t an end. There is no death.

Some people have looked closely at their connections, relationships, their own needs that will not be met if my body cuts out and they only have my soul to work with. You can’t get rid of me. The connection and assistance cannot go away. But noticing how we rely on one another, and how ego wants it a certain way, is a great spiritual work. Know thyself.

I think I see a lot of folks embracing helplessness too. They express it. They offer to do whatever I could wish, whatever they can. It is so beautiful! I can just cry about the outpouring of love that I receive every single day. And that’s about all anyone can do for me right now. I live a normal life with a lot of doctor appointments… but the doctor appointments take less time than work did! The oncologist repeats “no limits”, so I live limitless, normal, super hero normal. It’s a vacation life. I am having a lot of fun!

Appreciation is another theme. Beautiful words of gratitude flood my world, words coming to me from others. Thank you! And that can’t help but ooze out in all of our visions, to those around us, for their gifts and contributions too. It’s eye opening.

We are in this life together. Whatever paradigm you picture, our interweaving, ongoing existence is undeniable. Ask questions. Speak the words. Share your experiences. We are growing side by side. And we are the change the world is looking for, the healing of all that is.

10. Unwritten

When the multiple diagnosis flooded across my mind, I definitely accepted “an end in sight”. We all die. There is nothing wrong with accepting that there will be a terminal moment for the body. I quite encourage it! It frees the mind, frees the body, frees the spirit.

Natasha Bedingfield sings “Unwritten”. A limited number of the words popped into my head a moment ago. Google helped me find the rest: Michele-Stowell_Blog-Unwrtten_Single

I am unwritten, can’t read my mind
I’m undefined
I’m just beginning, the pen’s in my hand
Ending unplanned

Staring at the blank page before you
Open up the dirty window
Reaching for something in the distance
So close you can almost taste it

Feel the rain on your skin
No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in
No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips
Drench yourself in words unspoken
Live your life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins
The rest is still unwritten

“The rest is still unwritten.” Jan, Ndudi, and a host of others opened a new window. What if this is NOT the end, or a quick end anyway. “Drench yourself in words unspoken. Live your life with arms wide open.” The balance screams. It feels like war. But the one who watches from above knows it as a dance.

To live life for the experience, “feel the rain on your skin”, is illuminated now by Covid 19. The moment calls us. Appreciate the distinct… the colors, the scents, the sounds, those who are close in our lives. Notice. Be here now (yes, I do encourage some Ram Dass). Everyone on the planet has this extreme homework. And we’ve been in a fog, ignoring it!

Death, the other partner in the Tango, evolves as a sequel. In accepting it’s inevitability, we wipe the “dirty window”, and see the evolution of our life on the other side. There are no ends. “Today is where your book begins.”