“No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main;... any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.”—John Donne
#MastersofSocialIsolation #2. Blaise Pascal (1662), scientist, philosopher, Christian apologist, diagnosed the human condition: “Boredom, inconstancy, anxiety.” His case for Xty was based on his examination of human nature, particularly our insatiable need for diversion.
“When I set out to thinking about the various activities of men...I have often said that the sole cause of man’s unhappiness is that he does not know how to stay quietly in his room.” The chief value of wealth is affording for diversion and to keep unhappiness at bay—momentarily.
Pascal examined our inability to keep to the present. Our thoughts are almost always bound to the past or the future. “Thus we never actually live, but hope to live and since we are always planning how to be happy it is inevitable that we should never be so.”
The capacity to sit quietly in one’s room implies cultivation of an inner life—not a matter of deep or learned thoughts, but of resting in the core of one’s being. In Christ, who reveals the depth of our disorder and of a God’s love we can find our way back to our true home.
The universe is no longer a cold indifferent room from which we desperately seek escape. We can sit in our rooms without dread, knowing we are never truly alone. And know the happiness of the saints. amazon.com/Saints-Guide-Happ…. Next: Thoreau.
Now was not the time to assign blame, the master’s manservant Mikhail explained. 1000s of lives were saved by the bold closing of the Pond Water distillary. Meantime, while supplies lasted, excess inventory was available in a special collector’s edition. #TolstoysTalesofTrump
#MastersofSocialIsolation. 1. Emily Dickinson, who withdrew to her home in Amherst and adopted the life of a recluse or “stationary pilgrim.” She maintained a lively correspondence but had little personal contact beyond her family, saving her energies for observation and poetry.
“Some keep the sabbath going to Church—/ I keep it, staying at home—/ With a Bobolink for a Chorister—/ And an Orchard for a Dome./...God preached, a noted Clergyman—/ and the Sermon is never long./ so instead of getting to Heaven, at last—/ I’m going, all along.”
Her observations of bees, birds, flowers showed a capacity to see the universe in a grain of sand. Such details of natural order were a harbor opening to musings on eternity—for which death was ultimately the gateway. “Because I could not stop for Death—He kindly stopped for me.”
“Each life converges to some center/ Expressed or still—/ Exists in every human nature/ A goal—/... Ungained, it may be, by life’s low venture, / But then—/ Eternity enables the endeavoring / Again.” Before dying on 5/14/1886 she wrote: “Little Cousins,—Called back. Emily.”
Staying home she travelled far.
(During this time of “pause,” quarantine, “stay-at-home,” self-isolation and “social distancing” I plan to share the stories and lessons of those who mastered this art—whether by choice or imposed by circumstances.) Next: Blaise Pascal!
“My Lord and my God, take from me everything that distances me from you. My Lord and my God, give me everything that brings me close to you. My Lord and my God, detach me from myself to give my all to you.” St Nicholas of Flue, hermit, 1487. A good prayer for a time of isolation.
March 21 birthday of JS Bach, who spent his life as church organist and choral director. Only after his death did he become renowned as a composer. His sacred music is not for the cloister but the world. Perfect for isolation today—he transforms any location into sacred space.
Remembering Mayor Giuliani’s finest hour (such were the days) when he was asked how many might have died in the Twin Towers: “More than we can bear.” For a time that empathy made him a beloved hero. Trump: “I would say you are a terrible reporter.”
At first, adjusting to new habits--staying 6 ft apart, not shaking hands, working at home--felt like a kind of adventure. But now it sinks in--that we are entering a dark cloud. Between here and a new dawn will be a season of deep trauma and grief. Must be brave and kind.