Indecision
Why do I leave my warm home to walk in this wild, windy weather?
Because languishing in indecision in the comfort of my home does not satisfy my soul.
Where does this lethargy come from?
It is a result of cancellations, restrictions and rules that must be obeyed for my own safety and the protection of others.
But I chafe; my will and my desire shut down. So, I cannot decide what to do. Indecision has taken hold!
I don’t want to go outside, but I have made the decision and I will follow through.
Outside, I zipper my jacket up to my chin, pull up my hood, sink my gloved hands into my pockets and stride out across the open ground. My old rugged runners squidge into the mud, find some gravel to grip, only to sink into the soft ooze of the ridged ground deeply gouged by truck tracks.
My head is down; I’m wide awake; the wind has blown away the webs of dismal news reports and the forecasts of long weeks of social restrictions ahead. We must hunker down and face this challenge. This challenge must be met with decision.
It is a war to be fought with many small battles; physical battles to social distance, isolate if necessary, curb usual activities, create new ways of doing tasks, wash hands vigilantly and cover coughs and sneezes.
It is also a battle of the mind. Crisis, fear, boredom, panic and frustration can result in indecision; debilitating indecision leads to depression.
These battles are fought with decisions; one small decision and then another.
I decided, “Enough of indecision!” Jacket on, shoes on, gloves on, out the door!
Across the open ground I noticed a person, hat crammed on her head, striding purposefully to keep warm. A grinning Sheltie, hair whisked by the wind, was on a leash. It was Natalie and her dog, Bozo!
We waved at each other as she went her way and I continued towards the ridge. Bozo seemed to laugh into the wind, straining to be free of her leash, yearning to run through bushes and long dry grass, to follow deer scent, or run circles around a pump jack.
“Helloooo!” Natalie and I yelled at each other. The wind grabbed our words of greeting and flung them out of earshot. We called out unintelligible snatches of conversation that were whisked and whirled away. Still we threw our comments and observations, good wishes and hearty responses at each other. It didn’t matter to us that we did not know what the other had said. Laughter livened our lives as we bridged the social distance. We had made human contact, communicated.
I went on my way, happy now, remembering that Natalie was also from the old country where they, too, are dealing with similar problems. The hawthorn is in bloom there, the woods are carpeted with bluebells and the hedgerows are lined with primroses. As I walked I delighted in a virtual trip back to Kent, popped in at the local pub and leant on the lych gate at the entrance to the little stone church.
I’ll meet the challenge of this virus one decision at a time. My first resolve is to decide to make decisions. Indecision is the enemy.
by Andrea Kidd
