There is a glut of information on the internet for how to protect ourselves from the Corona virus, but how do we protect ourselves from the hidden one, the one that is arguably the more contagious and devastating infection – fear?

​At the heart of the journey of spiritual and personal development is a choice. Each of us must decide if we want to live with love or live with fear. When we decide that we have had enough of living in fear and choose love, then we turn to gathering the tools that will aid us on our journey from fear into love.

The journey we are on individually at this time is no different, we have the same choice. Each of us must decide, “Do I choose love or fear?”

If you decide to choose to respond with love rather than fear here are some ideas to support you.

- It does make sense to prepare, to supply yourself with what you will need for the next several weeks. This does not mean overbuying. It means buying what you would normally use over the next little while. It makes sense to do this because then you can let go of worrying about it. Once stocked you can let go of concern about having what you need, knowing that you do.

- The antidote to isolation and separation is connection and community. Reach out. Get involved in positively focused on-line groups, prayer circles and classes. Choose ones that uplift and give you a feeling of connection. Get on the phone and connect with those you love.

- Place your attention on the good stuff that is happening and make that your focus. Look around you, there is so much good going on, people reaching out, businesses supporting their employees, communities helping. People and businesses coming together to support each other. Here are just a few examples -

We joined Nextdoor Neighbor, a local website for community connection and information. On it I found some uplifting messages.

“If anyone is unable to get out of their house and needs food, water, supplies, etc., please let me or another neighbor know ♥️ Even if we are all being distanced from one another, don't feel alone and know you're part of a community and we are here to help!!” And in response – “We would also love to help if anyone around needs anything. We are somewhat new to the area and haven't met many neighbors yet, but please reach out and we can try to do what we can. :)”

On the town of DeSoto, KS website was this supportive message. - “Understanding that some residents may face financial difficulties arising from COVID-19 related closings, De Soto is suspending disconnections and late payment fees until further notice. This applies to all City water, sewer, and refuse accounts.”

Local stores like REI Coop are offering support to their employees like this - “We have modified our paid time off policies to ensure that our employees—including hourly retail employees—who miss work due to illness or to care for sick family members do not suffer loss of income or other benefits.” A number of big stores are implementing similar policies.

-Get out into nature. Go out to the woods and less frequented natural areas. Plan to go with a friend if possible. Get out into your yard and your garden. Listen to the caroling songs of the birds celebrating spring’s arrival. Feel the wind caress your cheeks. Watch the sky as fluffy, white clouds form intriguing shapes. Smell the fresh scent of daffodils popping their yellow and white heads out of the ground. It is a beautiful Spring, allow yourself to enjoy and appreciate it.

- Remember to laugh. Laughter is a great immune booster, physically and energetically. Humor lifts us at a time when it is badly needed. So, for your chuckling pleasure here’s…

​We can serve the world at this time. Together let’s keep the light shining, my dear friends.  

I asked my husband, Peter, what he thought my blog posts needed. He gave me the most useful advice. He said that my best posts are those that give examples from my own life, telling my story.

I’ve written posts using stories from my life. They are the hardest for me to publish. They feel risky, exposing my soft underbelly. I feel vulnerable as I send them out into the ethers. What will people think of me with all my flaws hanging out there? What’s more, how can my personal story be important or interesting or even good enough to share?

“Find the courage to put your words out there because that invokes the ritual of surrender.”
-Red Feather 

What is it I am surrendering? Ah, of course, I am surrendering my attachment to all those fears lurking in the back of my mind. I am surrendering my attachment to all those hopes smiling at me from my vision board. I am surrendering my attachment to any outcome at all from these sharings of my heart.

Is that all? I can do that… I think.

I’ll just take my courage in hand, like taking the collar of a reluctant puppy. That puppy may have her tail tucked between her legs and be frantically pushing backwards. So what? I’ll continue to share my journey anyway, in the hope that it may support others.
​
We are each of us more alike, more connected than we know, and therein lies the value of sharing one’s story. Let's share our stories together.

First though, ahem…. I’ll start with someone else’s story. It’s so very good and beautifully written, by a woman who knows how scary it can be. I don’t want you to miss it.

A Fable by Jennifer Louden
https://jenniferlouden.com/a-fable-for-2018/  

Once upon a time, a girl made something from nothing.
She made fairy castles from mud and twigs, painted her dreams in every color and spun worlds from words.
Oh, how she loved the Making.
The bubbling luminescent Love of it gilded everything with possibility.
And then one day, someone intruded. A neighbor boy jeered at her fairy castle, a beloved teacher praised her best friend’s painting but not hers and a parent told her to stop wasting her time making up stories and go learn her sums.
Or, the natural Gap opened between what she could make and what she wanted to make. But there was no one to take her by the hand and teach her how to build her own bridge across the Gap. And the worry was planted: what if she wasn’t good enough?
Whatever the source, her faith in the Making was endangered.
A cage of razor-edged thorns tried to grow between the creating and her, pricking her with, “But if it isn’t perfect, what’s the point?” and “Look at what she made, it’s so much better,” and the thorns pointed at the Gap, made it appear as a yawning abyss and not a natural, inevitable part of the adventure.
Sometimes, the thorns used grades and grants denied and rejection letters to fuel their venom. Strangely, those rarely hurt her as much as the thorns of her own making.
Yet she persisted. Scratched, defiant eyes narrowed in concentration, she made something from nothing.
Sometimes exhausted, she retreated, rested, tried a new way of making.
But she always returned.
She always defied the thorns.
Until one day, after many years, for no reason or a thousand, the thorn’s power grew too great and pinned her to the earth.
Merciless in their insistence, pricking and tearing, chanting, “Give up the writing. Give up the painting. Give up the teaching. Why do you keep trying so hard?”
She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. She lay with her cheek pressed into the earth, panting.
It will be so much easier if you give it up.
Well, it would be, she thought. They have a point. What has all this making and creating and trying gotten me anyway?
With that, a blanket of gloom rolled toward her, made from everything that is the opposite of creating. A lightless blanket of sameness.
She grew sleepy. Just give it up. Why try so hard?
It rolled toward her with its endless flickering Netflix and Facebook and Instagram and books and paintings and beauty, all made by someone else.
And then, as the blanket of sameness was almost upon her and the thorns grew together over her head, through the gloom and the ugly lattice work of her self-made prison, the woman spotted a glimmer.
A shimmer.
A girl-shaped flame.
She struggled to raise her head.
It was her, as a child. And she was made completely of color and stories and imagination and devotion. Oh so much pure devotion.
She was flame forged from the pure love of making.
Not for accolades or approval or coins.
The girl’s heart cared less for any of that. She cared only for the challenge, the worlds she would shape and cradle, the butterflies of what if? Fluttering, fluttering in her belly.
She cared only for the making.
And the girl stretched out her hand with a giggle and the woman didn’t hesitate to reach out and take it.
May you always remember this woman and how you cheered for her to never give up,
And then may you cheer for you yourself
As loud and as proud.
And may you always remember your voice matters.