Grateful for Government

18 October, 2020

If Coronavirus has taken centre stage this year, politicians have been not too far behind. 

New Zealand's Prime minister has been praised for her handling of the Coronavirus, and rewarded with a landslide victory in the country's recent elections. Australian Prime minister Scott Morrison was scoffed at for allowing 30 min haircuts during the peak of the pandemic. Victoria's Premier Daniel Andrews faces court charges over his 5km radius restrictions and 8pm curfew. They're still hunting for who was responsible for hiring security guards whose slack and unhygienic interactions with infected travellers sparked the state's 2nd wave. (Update: currently its no-one's fault. Not even the security guards....??). Donald Trump and Joe Biden are now mutable when engaged in debate.  

Suddenly those who 'don't know don't care' about politics have taken interest (offence) and found themselves protesting on the streets. We've all got an opinion on how our country/state/city should be run and are not afraid to share it on social media. I know we're tired, we're cooped up, we're broke. I also know we shouldn't be comparing country to country, but I think sometimes it can give us perspective. 

Prime minister Jacinda Ardern, by her strict measures, reduced NZ's Coronavirus daily cases from peak 89 to currently  <2-3. What a dream result. There were, however, a few things working in the country's favour: the fact that it is an island nation; its small population of 4.8million relatively spread out over its 268,000km²; natural social distancing since most Kiwis live in houses with big backyards; the relatively low reliance on public transport due to high car ownership (and... lack of efficient public transport!). Ah, New Zealand. We love New Zealand (hence over 10% of us are in Australia...??)... could there be a more heavenly place on earth? (Answer: currently, no). 

This side of the ditch, Premier Daniel Andrews, by his strict measures (too strict, according to some... even though they were incredibly lax compared to NZ), has reduced Victoria's daily case numbers from peak 715 per day to the current 1-7. Remember, this is the 2nd wave, where the horse of community transmission had bolted. Victoria is a non-island state of 6.7 million unevenly spread over approximately the same land area as NZ. 4 million (nearly the entire population of NZ) are concentrated in Melbourne, where people live in social housing towers, apartments and townhouses. (You know, I didn't know what a townhouse was until I moved to Melbourne!). These things make it hard. Very hard. Yet I can't help thinking our leaders have done a bloody good job to get us where we are now. 

Through lockdown, as part of Christian Veterinary Mission, I have been doing lectures online for Indian Veterinarians. Its been lovely to get to know some of the participants, and heart-breaking to hear of their ongoing crisis. One vet said there were 300 cases that day in his small village as he showed me the peafowl he was looking after.  'Esther, pray for India,' they said. 'We need God to intervene. We need healing on this land'.  'There is no lockdown in India anymore,' they explained. 'Our government is not like your government. There is no money to support people with welfare payments if they stay home. There is no choice but to keep our country open, to keep the economy going...and infection keeps spreading..... we need your prayers.'

I was taken aback, and ashamed, by this. Here in Melbourne, we complain our human rights are stripped because we cant go to visit our fav coffee shop 6km away or our mother-in-law 7km away (which is worse I am not sure).  Mandatory masks restrict our life giving O₂ (because smoking doesn't...?). Job keeper payments are being cut whilst our hair is not (again which is worse, I'm not sure....). 

But India has none of those terrible problems. They have worse. Note - this is not an attack on the Indian government. In my limited knowledge, its not that they don't care. They simply cannot afford to lock down the country. But they also do not have the means to accommodate such a high number of infected people. People are 'free' and so people are dying. 

And so with little hope in the government to fix things,  the Christians put their only hope in God. They are praying as if their lives and their nation depends on it, because it does. They are asking us, whiny, sour-faced Melbournians, to pray for them too... geez, how desperate must they be? 

And how desperate are we not?. Instead of praying, we protest. Instead of compliance, we complain. Or we comply and complain. We look inwards instead of outwards and upwards. 

To end, back to NZ: being the nerds that we are, my family stayed up late last night watching as our nation's election results rolled in. Then we phoned each other to discuss. Now, us Fans aren't 100% fans of Labour party policies. 'But its not all bad', Dad said in his wisdom. 'I'm just grateful we have a stable government'. Again, comparison to those less fortunate isn't always recommended (I'm addicted to donuts and 100kg overweight but hey at least I'm not anorexic...). But in a world of 'entitlement' and 'my rights' it is good to not take things - like our leaders - for granted. Remember, India looks at our lockdown with envy. We need to train ourselves in gratefulness. Start with the small. Look outwards and look up. You might even find yourself 

Grateful for government. 

 

Multi-tasking, Messaging and McDonalds

6 weeks ago I took a break from social messaging. I feared I'd crash and burn if not. Say what? We know that over-working, over-training, or struggling to keep 8 kids clean and fed can lead to burn out. But which weakling burns out from sending a few text messages? Me. And, maybe, more of us than we realise. 

‘Attention is a precursor to love’,  said John-Mark Comer in his series on 'Unhurrying'*. That is, 

We give attention to what we love, and 
We come to love that which we give attention to.

Pause. What have I given my attention to today, this week, my whole adult life? Does it scare me?

Note the verb give. Though many things vie for our attention, in the end its us that decides who - or what - gets it. We can blame distractions in all their subtlety. But attention is given, not stolen. We think we give it freely, but underneath it often costs.

If I placed any given minute of my life under the microscope, I’d see my attention split between several different things. After all, I am a woman: I pride myself in multitasking. I’m not about to give up this super-power any time soon.

But whilst multitasking may be the hallmark of efficiency in many areas of life, I’m not sure if we should be applying it to our relationships, namely, our messaging. Multi-tasking whilst messaging surely isn’t the hallmark of loving relationships. And  surely ‘efficiency’ isn’t the goal of loving relationships. But this is how we function; what we have come to accept as normal – because… we see no other alternative. 

Think for a second: the difference between typing an assignment or typing is condolences is… merely switching tabs on your internet browser. The difference between scrolling on Facebook, scrolling through meeting minutes or scrolling through the conversation on your family chat is…just flicking between apps. Our brains treat them all the same way. Our brains don’t have time to treat them any differently. The default setting is to filter, skim read and pay only partial attention - lest something more interesting pops up. 

I’m no psychologist, but I imagine that our brains are meant to function differently when we are engaged in something relational vs tasks such as work/chores/study. Perhaps different settings are required or the emotive centre gets an extra boost of blood - surely something should change. The problem is, we spend all our waking hours engaged in multiple conversations and other non-communicative tasks at the same time. Everything – all the input - looks the same to our brain: we don’t so much as change body position or take a breath between clicks and taps. No wonder we feel frazzled and all-over-the-place. No wonder we can’t remember which jokes/comments/photos belonged to which conversation. Of course we thought we sent confirmation to the boss (when in fact we replied our mother).

There is a lot of talk of mindful eating nowadays. Rather than snacking 24/7 or wolfing down McDonalds in the car, we’re encouraged to cook a nutritious meal, sit down to eat and chew >20 times before swallowing (wow, we’ve got to the stage where we take courses on how to sit down and eat???). We’ve realised (gosh, how smart scientists are these days!) the physical and mental health benefits of eating how our ancestors did.

What snacking is to nutrition, fragmented messaging is to our relationships. In small quantities, to tie us over, and get something done, they’re absolutely fine. Fun, even. But if they make up the bulk of our diet or communication, it leaves us feeling, well, how I felt two months ago. Saturated, but empty. Like I can’t keep up, and I never will. Most of us know the how it’s like to ‘fail’ at a diet. I feel like I’m ‘failing’ my friends. They deserve better than my partial attention, but how else do I manage the inbox overload? 

Whilst my Facebook feed is bombarded with suggestions of healthy meal kits, nutrition workshops and raw-food vegan diets, what I really want – and perhaps what we all need - is a course on ‘mindful messaging’. Is there a realistic alternative to dismembered communication?

If the opening definition of attention is true...could it be that we are losing our capacity to love?

____________

*https://bridgetown.church/teaching/unhurrying-with-a-rule-of-life/the-case-for-a-digital-asceticism/

Play

In the last two weeks, Melbourne's playgrounds have sprung to life again, much to the delight of the city's children, and the relief of their parents. There’s something about playgrounds that kids never find old –a hundred different games that can be imagined on any given day.  And there’s something about watching kids play that brings a smile to the soul, regardless of your parental status.

But what is it about play that gets old? As we age, we replace playgrounds with PlayStation. We slide from swings and seesaws to solitaire and swiping.  I mean, not that being sedentary and glued to technology is all bad … but it certainly doesn’t produce delight in onlookers (nor participants, it would appear) like playgrounds do.

Perhaps it’s us that gets old, not play itself. Caught up in the (legit) worries and necessities of adult life, have we forgotten how to play? How did we let the bark beneath our feet, the rope in our hands and the grazes on our knees become something so foreign; feared, even? 

This week’s challenge is: Turn off the technology, take a break from the chores and do one thing (just one!) that brings you deep delight. It might not be swinging on the swings, (but it might be!). Maybe you need to be reminded of how fun – or at this stage, therapeutic – seesaws and sandpits can be. Maybe you need to be reminded how satisfying a cat nap or a good book really is. Just like made-up games around a fort, there are a hundred different ways to 'play'. The only limitation is ourselves. Set aside pride, find your inner child and tell me if it doesnt bring a smile to your soul. It might even inspire others. 

Go on, play is waiting.