Doing nothing. It's a challenge to adapt to a radically different way of being. Perhaps the pause allows what has been quenched or hidden to show its head, like a bulb breaking from the earth, so that a novel kind of insight and reflection is allowed to flourish. To read poems.To write your own. The incomparable music of choirs, orchestras, solos. Creative fiction that opens up some wide window in your thinking. I'm reading Louise Erdrich, Dorothy Sayers, Garrison Keillor's collection of "Good Poems." The poems of Carolyn Forche, just published. The New Yorker. The Plough. Sojourners. A good start, don't you think?
On Mar 26, 2020 Luci N Shaw wrote :