Paying attention to what’s important
Britain — and much of the world — is in a state of emergency.
The extraordinary NHS is rapidly finding new ways to try to deal with the exponential increase in cases of Covid-19, and staff at all levels are giving all they have, working way beyond their experience and comfort zones to care for the sick in new stadium-sized hospitals that have been built in a week.
Meanwhile, healthy people have had their lives turned upside down, as we are all confined to our homes, in a collective act of compassion to slow the spread of disease.
We are just at the beginning of this crisis, and we will all experience change that we can’t yet see or imagine.
There hasn’t been a crisis of this scale for generations.
While the NHS are caring for people’s bodies, I am wondering about the care of the intangible parts of us — our feelings, our spirits, our souls. In our secular culture, how many of us have the tools, practices or communities that will help them navigate the big questions that are arriving on our doorsteps daily? How shall we spend our days? How should we care for each other? How can we pay attention to what we know to be true? Where do we find hope? How do we grieve? How do we face mortality?
While we’re investing in the steps to keep our own and each other’s bodies well — staying at home, washing our hands — what are the steps we might invest in to keep these other parts of ourselves well and strong?
These questions might usually be seen as the preserve of religions, but these last few weeks are showing that they are naturally and universally human — as is the willingness and desire to help. We are seeing responses arise naturally, as people all over the country have stepped up to provide practical and pastoral care to those around them, including the countless local support groups that have sprung up over the last couple of weeks. People are connecting and checking in with their loved ones and old friends. When crisis comes, it feels natural to act in support of each other. We know how to do this.
And people have been offering spiritual help in other ways — offering resources and classes online to help people practice yoga or meditate at home. I have joined new online meditation and prayer groups offered by people who know that being in quiet attention together can help. People are singing together on videocalls.
Unitarian congregations (and others) have quickly adopted new technologies to gather together now the churches are shut, and also using the old technologies of letterboxes and telephones to stay connected.
These things are wonderful, and inspiring, and I feel like we are just at the beginning of responding to the newly emerging spiritual needs of our communities. My sense is that we are all going to need to find a new gear to help us travel smoothly over the terrain ahead. I was moved by the relief of continuity when I saw the familiar faces of my congregation appear on Zoom these last couple of Sunday mornings; it’s so valuable to feel that sense of continued connection even when we are apart. And as the pandemic takes its course, I feel like we will all need more than the continuity of the ways we tended to each other in ‘peace time’.
Just as the NHS itself arose out of the crisis of WWII, perhaps this pandemic is creating the conditions for us to build what’s needed to take care of our spiritual health. The welfare state doesn’t go very far into tending to people’s spiritual needs (and rightly so, many may think), and we know how most faith groups have failed in the past decades to reach enough new people to keep the pews full. Seeing as there isn’t a strong and trusted place to turn for us all to turn to right now for spiritual sustenance, many people may find themselves at a bit of a loss of where to look for the support, wisdom, peace, hope that they would help them right now. Whether people find something that will help them probably depends most on who in their communities and friendship groups has valuable wisdom to share, and whether that wisdom can be heard in the hubbub.
We are just at the beginning of the crisis. These first waves of community support, and people finding new ways to offer help, and new skills to share are incredible. And there will be resilience and stamina needed to help us all navigate the future — and the ways we act now will play a part in shaping the future that emerges from this crisis.
In all the gratitude I am carefully counting during these days, high up the list is that I am immersed in the care of spiritual communities. That we are all connected could hardly be plainer in a time of pandemic. It’s not the time for us to tend only to those who are within our self-made boundaries, but to act in service of the wider humanity. It feels like the time to gather together with everyone, in service of humanity.
The peeling back of our usual routines reveals what’s most important, and we are seeing individuals and organisations drop old busyness and focus on what really matters. I think more is going to be peeled back in the coming weeks and months as the pandemic takes its course and our society responds.
This first wave of collective, generous, inspiring help that has sprung up in these past weeks is full of hope. As my own usual routines have peeled back, and I have taken a look at what feels most important to me, it feels like these acts of care and connection might be the first layer of the foundations — an expression of our natural wish to live well together, to care for each other, to find strength in the collective. Beyond this first layer, there is a need to share wisdom, practices and ways of gathering that we know to nourish our souls, and make it easy for us to act with kindness. We will need stamina, and so we need to share these things in a way that makes them sustainable, and we need them to be accessible to everyone, so we need to share them in ways that reach those who need them.
This isn’t a time for firm answers or trying to tie up the crisis into a neat story with a tidy bow, but for paying attention to what’s important, and letting that guide us through these weeks.
