Cultivating An Interior Life During Quarantine
By Maria Koshute
Social distancing and staying at home has become our new normal. Each day, we may physically be interacting with 0 to 10 people depending on our household size, with the exception of those essential workers who are continuing to serve our communities out in the world.
With less outside stimulation, more alone time, and distance from our usual routine, the silence and isolation can feel acute. Especially for those not accustomed to a life of stillness and solitude the experience can be bewildering, disorienting, and downright anxiety provoking. It can feel incredibly uncomfortable to sit with ourselves, to face the big questions in life with fewer distractions and obligations than our routines typically permit.
Society’s answer has been to rapidly shift as many experiences as possible into virtual versions: Zoom happy hours, birthday parties, seminars, prayer groups, conferences, workout sessions. The list goes on and on. We are desperately, frantically trying to manufacture a virtual counterpart for everything we used to do in person. While to an extent this does help maintain connection and community, we must ask ourselves if some things cannot and should not be duplicated remotely. We should also ask if this is the best response to the situation in which we find ourselves. Should we simply be doing less with less?
Perhaps we are afraid to sit with silence and spaces of unscheduled time. Perhaps we feel the need to always be connected with others, afraid of sitting with ourselves or the people we are with. Perhaps we need to look at this season of stillness and silence as an invitation to being over doing.
In a funny and slightly sad twist, it seems that the American penchant for productivity has gripped us even here during quarantine time. We are urged to accomplish great things, learn new hobbies and skills, write that book, do something productive. Certainly it is important to make the most of this season, in ways that might mean developing ourselves and our skill sets (I’m enjoying learning to garden and writing more) but our response to this crisis shouldn’t be measured by output or accomplishment. It needn’t be dependent on the amount of Zoom events we went to, or how we still managed to be wildly social in the midst of social distancing.
I think it’s important to ask the Lord what He wants us to do during this time. Ask Him what He wants to cultivate in our hearts right now and how He intends to bring that about. I would suspect He isn’t asking us to cram our days with virtual events, but to root ourselves more radically in the simple rhythms of life. Rising and sleeping, cooking and eating, reading and reflecting, silence and listening. What is this space of silence and darkness meant to give birth to in our lives?
Our homes and hearts have turned into little cloisters, and what is it that enlivens our spirits? What inspires us, strengthen us, and guide us during these times? He is asking to be our portion and our sustenance in a radical way as we are bereft of many of our attachments, routines, and comforts. Our hearts are the tabernacles we make for Him as we wait for masses to resume and the ability to receive Communion sacramentally. The sanctuary light is our attention we give to Him there.
We can’t save the world right now. We certainly can’t manufacture normalcy. “All we have to do is decide what to do with the time that has been given to us.” – Gandalf, Lord of The Rings
