The Boy, the Mole, the Fox and the Horse

"The Boy, the Mole, the Fox and the Horse"

Three weeks ago, I was talking to a friend as I ran from one meeting to the next. She was doing the same. We were both exhausted from going so fast, having obligations right and left and being spread in so many directions. We talked about the lack of virtue in living at the unnatural pace.

“Something has to change,” I said. “I’m not sure humankind can keep this up.”

Then, we hung up the phone and continued our mad dash.

Well.

Here we are.

By the time you read this, who knows where we will be? Life, with its rules, norms and pace, is changing so quickly that each day brings a new reality.

As a lifelong optimist, I’ve not known how to deal with the level of concern I’ve had this week regarding the universal root of anxiety throughout the world — the COVID-19 situation. Until now, I don’t remember ever struggling with anxiousness. Finding silver linings has come easy for me. The feelings this week have been new and overwhelming. In my friend groups, this week, I’ve often been the doomsdayer, which is never a good look.

Thankfully, on Wednesday, I was able to get to a better place emotionally. That new lease was primarily courtesy of a drawing by Charlie Mackesy, author of the book, “The Boy, the Mole, the Fox and the Horse” — a book that happened to be Barnes & Noble’s book of the year. If you haven’t read it, now is the time.

In Mackesy’s drawing (and I’m paraphrasing some here), the boy is leading the horse through the woods and says, “I can’t see my way through.”

The horse says, “Can you see to take the next step?”

The boy says, “Yes.”

Then, the horse says, “Just take that.”

For the better part of the preceding week, I had been living life doing my best to take a good hard look at 48 dominos down the way. As happens, those efforts were creating havoc in my head, which was too busy working on domino No. 49 to deal with the mayhem.

I needed the discussion between the boy and the horse.

Just take the next step.

I don’t have to get to the end of it right now, but I do have to be right here — and be my best self in this moment. I need to work on myself to be full of kindness and offer grace for others who are struggling.

Just take the next step.

That’s what I’m saying to myself when I begin to get concerned. If we freak out — we’re no good to anyone.

While I’ve been busy working most of the week, in some of my calmer moments, I’ve made a mental list of the things I want to accomplish during this time at home — organize the pantry, get the clutter off my desk, organize the big closet, go through clothes and eliminate what we don’t wear anymore, scrub the floors. Meanwhile, several friends have said to me, “Now is the time for you to write another book.”

To respond, I’ve channeled a sentiment that was attributed to Steve Martin this week. Again paraphrasing, he said, “People keep talking about taking this time to do something productive. Maybe we need to take some of this time to chill. I’ve spent the last 45 minutes looking at my leg.”

The comedian’s observation reminded me of a trip to the pediatrician several years ago. He told me that the thing to do with my sick child was to go home.

I asked, “Should I give her medicine?”

He said, “Nope, just go home.”

“Should I put her in a cool bath?” I asked.

He said, “Nope, just go home.”

I looked at him.

He said, “Just go home.”

I said, “But what can I do to help her feel better?”

He said, “Nothing — unless you’d like to pray. I realize doing nothing is the hardest thing for you to do right now, but sometimes that’s the best thing to do — and now is one of those times.”

In times of great need, doing nothing is the hardest thing.

Yes, we can scurry around and do a few things. On so many levels, I’m concerned for my family, friends and for the rest of the world. Right now, however, I don’t know what else to do beyond praying, washing my hands and taking the old pediatrician’s advice.

I’m going to stay home.

From there, I’ll take the next step.

Email Jan Risher at janrisher@gmail.com.