Staying Human

During the first lockdown and again now, I think about Little House on the Prairie. It was given to my daughter about four years ago, and we read it together and read through the whole series. I took comfort from the parallels, that Laura and her family lived much of their lives in relative isolation, away from their relatives, and being out in the wilderness, often far from other families too. Despite the simplicity of their lives, things still happened, they spent time together in a loving, peaceful family. They baked bread, and worked hard, making it through winters that were cold and difficult, with many days just spent keeping the fire going to maintain warmth in the house. 

After a few days considering what could be lost, it fills me with gratitude for what I do have. Today I walked to the Post Office to post the homemade gifts that my daughter had made for faraway friends and relatives. Then I bought some food, and have started to try to recreate a meal I had in a vegan restaurant last week. Courgette burgers with spicy tomato and red pepper sauce, and roast potatoes with rosemary. The song, ‘you can’t take that away from me,’ comes into my mind. Everything they take away, forces us to dig deeper, to find the joy in the everyday, the simplicity.

Early on in the first lockdown, I thought about my spiritual connection, and how if I was left with nothing else, I would meditate longer, I would pray deeper, I would always have something. How sad and pitiful it is that there are people on earth that are so traumatised and so demonically possessed, that their sole focus appears to be on taking things away from others. It has always been the way with the greed of the elites, of the rich and powerful, seducing us into a world of bright lights and constant entertainment, where we are constantly searching and never satisfied. Now that world has a six monthly expiry date, with those who enter having to consciously renew their membership, selling their body, and potentially their soul.

The fear of having it all taken away from me, has given me such gratitude and such satisfaction, to love and laugh. As I write this I think about those who have lost loved ones, to this orchestrated pandemic and it’s lethal cures, and it reminds me how precious each day is. Yes it’s a struggle, and my mood changes, often with the weather from grey to sunny. The elites come ever closer with their message of hatred, of division, of murder and greed. And yet we keep loving, and laughing and smiling and dancing. It must be quite annoying to them. That we stay human. And that is our resistance.