13 June 2020
Dearests,
I suspect this will be the last letter I write to all of you. Not that I’m dying but because life seems to be settling into a new version of our pre-pandemic rhythm. It is still unclear to me what daily life will be like in the near future, and how long it will last in its new version. There are too many people speculating on the subject and now I ignore all of it. Let’s see. Who thought we would have this adventure as part of our journey!
For us, we can now go and do almost anything again. Restaurants are opening. All the stores are open, except for the ones that have closed their doors permanently. We have a local shopping centre. Maybe it has twenty stores of which seven were empty before Covid. Now four more have gone out of business, but two new ones have opened. I doubt that they will last. It feels desolate and depressing, like watching a video at fast speed of a leaf decaying, but instead it’s in slow motion and of a shopping plaza decaying. This is part of the new normal, though here in Italy masks are still mandatory as is social distancing.
Once this week we went into a shoe store for slippers. Being in the house all these months we have worn out ours. That’s an indication of life in lockdown. Other than wearing out our slippers we haven’t done anything adventurous. We are so used to a quiet life that we are still only doing the necessary. But I can feel my mind drifting into – we should go there or there. So I suspect that soon our life will have more surprises in it. How exciting to watch as the movie unfolds!
Last Sunday we had satsang for the first time at the centre. The chairs were 1.5 meters apart, everyone wore a mask, we took temperatures on arrival, etc. Also, it was in an unfinished hall with bits of it still open to the outside. It was weird and wonderful. Somehow looking out on the sangat with the distances in between and everyone wearing a mask didn’t seem that strange. Here masks are normal and ubiquitous. Yesterday we had our first meeting with outsiders at the centre. We held it in a conference room with eight in attendance – two from our group and six others. None of the outsiders wore a mask. The masks were around their necks and when they had to confer they would slip them on. I was a little surprised and felt so daring taking off my mask – also liberated. If we distance properly, the law says we don’t need to wear masks. But they have become normal, even though my glasses are always fogged up. Also, the moment I put on a mask it is automatically time for an allergy attack, ten sneezes in a row; they are part of life. They bring a certain comfort that I am putting in effort in avoiding the virus. All a game but one we have to play.
Ann cut her hair this week. She didn’t ask me for help and was careful to cut it when I wasn’t around so I couldn’t volunteer to help. Instead she cut a gouge into her finger while cutting the back. If I had done it maybe I would have nipped her ear so I guess her cut is better than my mutilating her.
This week she also cut herself a few times while in the garden. Of course, plasters (band aids for the Americans) have appeared all over and she looks like a child who has decorated herself with plasters. Maybe I should buy her some with flowers on them, or at least, in beautiful colours. Now they look like dirty grey fabric and I know she would like to wear them as a badge of courage and show them off (will I get in trouble if I say they also show how hard she works, as opposed to me?).
But the garden is plentiful. Lucky me.
Today, Saturday, we have about eighteen sevadars. This afternoon the CMC (Centre Management Committee) and the head of plumbing, electrical and civil teams will be here to plan on when we will open seva, what projects we’ll do, etc. I’ll lecture them on money and the opportunity we have of starting afresh. They’ll be enthusiastic and say many times, “Yes, Mr. Bill,” but the reality of seva habits will outweigh the enthusiasm of a new beginning, and life will continue. I’m not complaining; they are amazing and my inspiration in life. My job is to do my job, theirs to do theirs, and so be it. They do their best, I do mine. Well, maybe… But the atmosphere is positive and in a few weeks construction seva will begin again. We’re all pleased and grateful. What is it about our boss that he can get us to do this thing called seva?
Yet on the 20th we will have about 85 sevadars here (we’re limiting it from the normal 225 in order to have space for seva social distancing). They will work hard, eat Panini sandwiches as we can’t cook, and not have the customary tea four times a day, but only bottles of boring water. Still, they will all be thrilled to be here. I’ll probably cry a little at some point as they are so wonderful. So how does he get us to do this? It’s when he says – “my sevadars.” As soon as he says that we can’t help but to keep coming back even though rationally it makes no sense. It’s the pull of love, the mystery of joy. In one way it gets expressed when elbows touch or feet touch in what looks like the beginning of a bangra dance move. (For those of you who are unaware, these are the new handshakes, the new hugs, and there is something rather touching and sweet about them. They are always accompanied by a laugh as it is so absurd to knock elbows as a way of greeting.) But seva is a manifestation of his love for us – a response from us to show our affection for him. We’re addicted at this point and proud members of the seva ‘cult’. And we are spread around the world in the most remote places and in the biggest neon cities. It’s all a mystery to me but I’m glad to be part of the mystery.
16 June
I’m looking around my office and it looks a complete mess. I find that having enough time for everything creates its own lethargy and often I have to force myself to begin a project – like straightening up my desk. But as I get busy again I’ve noticed I started looking at airline schedules and reading every article on air travel. Two countries have asked me to come and I was shocked when they did. Is life that normal that I can even contemplate travelling? I’m ready and I’m not ready. A little frightened but excited to begin.
On Saturday there is a small group for Naam Daan (initiation). It will be with social distancing and all the other added extras of a Covid lifestyle. It is checking the ear positions for bhajan that will be the challenge. But at least this group, who has been waiting since February, will have Naam Daan. Our centre doctor is getting Naam so it is crucial that we do everything by the Covid rule book or he could stop the notes and say we aren’t doing the safety procedures properly. But somehow I doubt he will.
21 June
We had Naam Daan and it was a joy. Six youngsters in their 20’s. Many jokes about them being the only initiates to learn meditation in masks and what a story it will be for their grandchildren!
Last week we went shopping at Ikea. You might be surprised but I think we were equally surprised that we did it. We bought what we needed and much we don’t need, but so be it. That was on Friday and we still haven’t finished unpacking as the weekend was busy. Very nice to say that I had a busy weekend. Naam Daan, satsang, Q&A, and interviews.
After being here for I think five years, we are finally asking for official residency in Italy. It’s a big step but one that makes me more embarrassed than ever that I don’t speak Italian. It won’t affect anything in the US or the UK but it might make things a little smoother here. Now that we are taking this step, he will probably move us someplace else or maybe even retire me. No idea what happens then but I’m not worried at all. It is lovely to feel somewhat safe in life even with the future as a complete unknown.
Well, friends, I hope all of you are well and happy. I expect you are. I wonder when we will meet again. When will we see him again? The numbers in India are bleak at the moment. But we’re in good hands so our futures are always bright.
Our love,
Bill & Ann
P.S. Just a few more things….
Four-plus months of various degrees of lockdown and I wondered if anyone else noticed the same pattern. For the first two months I got numerous videos appearing on WhatsApp, humorous and serious. There seemed to be a need to communicate, to send either heartwarming, inspirational, or informative snippets. Now they have stopped, except for a few diehards sending more political or medical ones. Have we become set in our pattern of coping, our Covid approach to living within limitations fixed, so that we no longer feel the need to actively support one another? Or have we realized it doesn’t make any difference, or have we become complacent? Have we become more withdrawn and isolated without noticing it? Or am I becoming too analytical and it’s just fundamentally human to change the extraordinary to the ordinary, a new adventure to a routine?
I went to New York for business about a week after September 11, 2001. I had no desire to visit the Twin Tower area but was so shocked by the new space in the skyline, the hole in the skyline, and the unconscious use of the Towers as a directional signal, that one afternoon I walked downtown. I was shocked by the emptiness created by their destruction. When I returned home to California I was so surprised by the number of questions I was asked about what it was like being in New York. People had a need to hear my story, my reactions – not because it was me but because we need stories to help us process and accept any shocking change. Now, in the WhatsApp generation, our stories have become two-minute videos or a quick news excerpt.
Either our minds are quite resilient and have already absorbed the new reality of pandemic life or we’ve become a little complacent and even hardhearted. Have we already lost the opportunity for a new balance, for dare I say it – evolution – or was it always an illusion? Enough of my musing …
And finally…….we were sitting at lunch today and in front of me was part of an avocado and a bowl of brown rice. I said: Look, my two “desert island” foods. Ann said they were hers also – though hers would be brown basmati, which as a rice snob doesn’t count – and if she could have a third item it would be lettuce. Lettuce?? Then she said that my third would be grapes and, as we would be on the same island, she could take my grapes to make vinegar to enjoy on her lettuce. My head was spinning. Lord, if a desert island is in our future, please know that you have to live in Ann’s will and send us to the same island.
It’s like my friend who said there is no way she is going through the tunnel of Bunk Nal without her husband by her side, as she didn’t like tunnels at all. Her will be done!
Also, I have no choice in my third food, if we even get a third choice. Grapes sound good and if it were a tropical island a few mango trees would be a delight. But what about toast, my ultimate comfort food…?
And that, my lovelies, is enough.
XXX
Bill