The virus, let me say it up front, isn’t Covid-19 or coronavirus or “the thing that’s swamping nearly every media outlet right now”. The virus is fear, rumor, mis- and dis-information, mental constructs, habits of thought, knee-jerk reaction, path of least (conscious) resistance. Any spiritual path worth its weight in chocolate should offer practices to rein in such human behaviors and put better alternatives — also human behaviors! — in their place. In other words, give us back our power of choice. Teach us ways to disinfect both our hands and our psyches, build resilience and good humor, and be of use to others.
Of course, the great thing about a habit is its efficiency: it’s a shortcut, a “nervous system macro”, so I don’t need to waste energy each time more or less the same choice faces me. The habit says “Just do this — it’s the same as the last time” and I can move on to the next thing. A habit turns off thinking and hands over control to that part of us which is really good at simply reacting. It’s a great help — when simply reacting is appropriate.
The less-than-great thing about a habit is the same thing: its automatic patterns rule parts of our behavior, rather than conscious choice.
Among the gifts of Druidry are the powers of reframing, of conscious thought, of magical choice — because all choices made consciously are magical in that they liberate us from mechanical behavior and open up possibilities for change and growth.
The video below isn’t directly about “dealing with a virus”, but the reframing and reclaiming of automatic behavior it looks at are innately Druidic acts.
No, not “quick fixes” — l o n g fixes instead, gifts to ourselves that keep on giving as long as we practice them. And because most of us have faced the kinds of things that the speaker discusses and knows intimately herself, these long fixes are human skills we can all learn and develop and deploy when life is challenging. When isn’t it?!
Another resource: this excellent Guardianarticle from yesterday, 7 March, with concrete data, and suggestions for where go to look for yourself at the many scientific studies, resources, suggestions and advice already available for dealing with the coronavirus.
It must have been early in its life that the 70 ft. trunk of the willow in our back yard split in three. In this picture I took yesterday, it almost looks like three separate trees. As an instance of the triads and triples and threes prominent in Druid tradition, the tree serves as a visual reminder every time I look out the bathroom window. (It’s also just a tree.) And whenever I’m there, I can if I choose consider the willow. When I face a choice between two paths, often enough if I look patiently, a third option comes into focus, standing behind the two in front. Well, maybe not always as clear as these three trunks, but still …
As many others have before me, I find that looking for an “obscured third” factor or option is good discipline. While three no more constitute the whole field of the Possible than two do, seeking and finding a third is one step in a helpful direction. With bad math I can claim it’s 33% more accurate. At least it acknowledges complexity, and lets me read the contours of a moment or situation more fluidly, allowing for wider possibilities.
The ready tendency of human perception toward isolating pairs of opposites does of course simplify the messiness of the field. Of the universe, of life-as-we-know-it. As a preliminary take on what’s going on beyond our noses, it’s often not bad as a first approximation. But it’s only that. We all remember the crisis, the either-or, the hard call under stress, but far more often than we realize, the energies, potentials and tendencies in most situations are multiple rather than binary.
“I have to make more money or go into foreclosure. For here or to go? Either you’re with us or against us. If I don’t quit now, I never will. Yes or no? Soup or salad? Boy or girl? Either you believe in God or you don’t. Liberal or conservative? Thin crust or deep-dish?” We’ve all faced and heard these kinds of choices, possibly muttered — or shouted — some version of them to ourselves or others. “Paper or plastic?” “Left or right?”
How often have we’ve acted on one or the other, and not always to our advantage? I can feel my hackles rise, just thinking about it all. No one likes to be boxed in. Even “thinking outside the box” is still in or out. Still either-or, yes or no. Who makes their best decisions hassled, pressured, under the gun? Yes, some of us may be intermittent adrenalin junkies and love the high of danger, the thrill of risk, the seat-of-the-pants choice, the coin-toss of fate. But as a whole lifestyle, after a while it can start to look much less attractive.
“Left or right?” Well, we could turn around and go back the way we came. Or get out and walk straight ahead. Or park and wait for a bus or cab. Climb a tree and scope out the area. Or …
“Paper or plastic?” “Neither. I brought my own bag.” The relaxation that often follows seeing and feeling and acting from the richness of a third (or fourth or fifth) choice rather than from a false binary should tell me I’m onto something. (So should the occasional look of surprise on others’ faces as the moment breaks through habit, routine, semi-consciousness.) Maybe the choice itself matters less than I thought. Or maybe more — and so it shouldn’t be rushed, but savored. We love options, then deprive ourselves of them when they count most.
A Druid Way 