Year of Wonders

Is it possible to remain in a spirit of affirmation and appreciation in the midst of unspeakable loss? Having just finished Geraldine Brooks' wonderful novel, "Year of Wonders", I was awestruck at how the author managed to convey a sense of beauty, purpose and meaning about a novel about the plague in 17th century England. In this extraordinary debut fiction work by an experienced journalist, I had expected a sad, but interesting novel. Yet, what I discovered during my year long journey with Anna, the protagonist, was not just the shock and horror. Ms. Brooks was able to create a character so resilient that Anna continues to grow, thrive, seek further knowledge and continue in her desire to help others. Based on a real life case of plague in the village of Eyam, Derbyshire, the author takes the actual events, and weaves them into a story of both inspiration and fear, growth and regression, life and death. The village's story, marked by a simple stone indicator in the present day, shows the heroic efforts of the people in trying to hold the spread of the Plague to their very town. These residents did not leave, with the exception of the wealthiest land holder. They requested supplies from neighboring villages, and asked that these be left outside the town markers. Instead of nailing individual families inside their homes, to die alone and in fear, the entire village chose to remain in sanctuary, tending to their own, living and dying together, as a village. It has been noted that the efforts of Eyam were both remarkable and unusual, as Plague was spread often by people fleeing...and bringing the contagion with them.

The village of Eyam chose to sacrifice themselves so that others may live. When the townspeople receive news that the disease had spread to no other village in their shire, they were convicted that they had taken the correct course of action. This was not without a great deal of disagreement. Their minister, Michael Monpellion, preaches of Jesus' words "That there is no greater love than this: that a man should lay down his life for his friends." Reverend Monpellion asks the villagers to take this piece of the gospel quite literally, as the town lost more than 2/3 of their population. There were insurrections, rebellion, grave digger's wanting to rob victims and those who preyed upon false superstition. But, in the end, the village was victorious. They buried far more people than remained alive. They did this not even knowing, as we do today, the way in which Plague is transmitted: from fleas in over 90% of the cases. Without even being aware of this knowledge, the residents of Eyam knew that contagion grew worse if people left. And so, they created boundaries and lived, or died, within them. Despite this novel being a work of fiction, the character development is so brilliant that I feel as if I've met the real people who lived, worked, tended, died and survived in this real life village.

Interestingly, the Pandemic of the Spanish Flu (from 1918 to 1920) not only killed more people than World War I combat, that was also claiming lives concurrently, but than the Plague had centuries earlier. In Thomas Mullen's novel, "The Last Town on Earth", I read a very different story than that of "The Year of Miracles". Mullen's novel focuses on Pacific Northwest towns cutting themselves off from the rest of civilization: but to protect others...only to protect themselves from the outside world. Interestingly, like Geraldine Brooks' novel, the country was at war (her novel takes place during the civil War in England) and yet, war is only in the background of both books."The Last Town on Earth" takes the opposite approach in stemming any tide of illness: they post armed guards at the entrances to their village of Commonwealth, Washington. When an injured, starving stranger appears at the gates, this town has three choices: to allow this man to die outside their parameters of exposure or infirmities, to shoot him themselves to prevent him from gaining access, or to allow him inside and render aid. While I read this novel more than two years ago, I found memories of it working their way to the uppermost part of my consciousness as the story of another quarantined town made itself known.

The question remains: is this the same story? Why, or why not? While I do find these two excellent novels, based on actual historical events, to contain many parallels, I do not believe it's the same premise. While both the Black Death and the Spanish Influenza brought with them widespread hysteria and unthinkable masses of dead, the reaction in Brooks' novel is one of self-sacrificial hope. The message in Mullen's novel is that of insular, fear driven selfishness. There are both "good" and "bad" characters in both novels, and each have their share of moments struggling with terror overriding rational decision making. However, whereas one novel chooses to keep their own illness to themselves, to prevent spreading it to neighboring towns (where family and friends might reside), the other chooses to ignore their neighbors' (and the rest of the world's) cry for assistance. "The Year of Miracles" continually speaks of faith. "The Last Town on Earth" speaks of prejudice. When taken together, it's a terrifying picture of real pandemics, and how they have effected civilization, socially, ethically and practically. In this age of Bird Flu, H1N1 virus, and other virulent forms of illness, these novels present a serious look at what has happened in the past.

Where would I have stood on this issue? It's always impossible to gauge unless one has been faced with the reality of a situation. That being said, my hope is that I would take a stand for honor, wherever that lies. There is very little honor in refusing aid to others, even if it means putting yourself at risk. Having been hospitalized in intensive care, exactly 2 years ago, I do not know how I would have survived had I not been treated by a brave, fabulous team headed up by an Infectious Disease specialist and pulmonologist, as well as countless wonderful nurses. Did they turn and run away from me? They did not. They solved my mystery, they were able to treat me, and while it was not an easy road to recovery, I was blessed to have medical attention for a dreadful, unexpected infection. What if I'd been tossed out the hospital door and said, "Sorry. You're out of luck. We don't want you infecting anyone"? I have been treated with dignity, with conviction and with bravery. I believe I'd be a sorry survivor to maintain the lifeboat theory from here on out: "I'm fine here. You're on your own." Therefore, I believe it is my duty to help out wherever I can, in whatever way is necessary. I may not be able to cure a disease, but I can bring comfort to those who need respite.

One of the lines I find most life affirming in Geraldine Brooks' novel is the true naming of the Plague year of 1666: Annis mirabalis: the Year of Wonders. John Druyden, an exceptional poet of the day, was living and writing at the time. Many religious leaders had predicted that 1666 would be the 'year of the beast', based on the 666 from the Book of Revelation. They weren't far off the mark: London's Great Fire, the English Navy's total defeat in battle at Sea, the Plague and other unfathomable disasters. Yet, Druyden chose to interpret the time as "The Year of Miracles" in his poem of the same name. It was his decision to choose to see the events as blessings, rather than curses, as so many people did. Druyden decided to view the events as facts and occurrences, rather than the end of the world. I admire his resolve, during this very difficult time. I would rather stand with the the John Druydens, the Isaac Newtons and the characters like Anna, in this world, than lock myself away in fear and exclusivity.

What would you do?

Anger will never disappear so long as thoughts of resentment are cherished in the mind. Anger will disappear just as soon as thoughts of resentment are forgotten. ~ John Druyden

Sun Salutations

One of the greatest pleasures we can feel in life is the warmth of sunshine. The sun is vital to our health, to our spirits, and to our planet. If the Earth was further away from the sun, we'd freeze. If it was closer, we'd live on a scorched, lifeless orb. Our distance from the Sun is crucial to life as we know on it on Earth. The sun helps our food grow, it creates a temperate environment and a regulates the seasons, as we orbit around it. The sun provides our bodies with much needed Vitamin D. It's not any wonder that people in far Northern climates (like my own) crave the feeling of sunshine during the longest of winter months. When we go on vacation each Spring, I feel the sunshine in my first steps out of the airport and think, "Yes! This is just what I've been missing!". Sunshine is simply vital to our well being; body, mind and spirit.





Therefore, it's not surprising that the earliest recorded cultures, many of them exceptionally sophisticated, all worshipped the sun. The Egyptians had Ra, their Sun God, who was the supreme ruler over all. The Sumerians believed in Shamesh, and built temples to him all over present day Iran and Iraq. The Mayans, Aztecs and Incans all had complicated divinity systems based on their worship of their Sun God. In Asia, Tian Shu Zhu was the primary deity in the Ancient world, whose images were then blended and transformed into more contemporary Buddhism, Taoism and Hinduism. The Ancient Maori people in Australia called their own Sun God Tane. The most extraorindary aspect of all of these belief systems is how strikingly similar they are. It strikes me as quite remarkable that ancient peoples, years and miles apart, would create such vivid images and beliefs, without contact with one another. Literally every ancient people, on every continent had beliefs that were remarkably alike. While their rituals differed greatly, the underlying message of the Sun's importance to their very survival was key.



In Yoga, we practice a series of poses called Sun Salutations. While some groups have tried to label these asanas as sun worship, this simply isn't true. Sun Salutations are a physical manifestation of the sun's progress across the sky. They were developed in India to mimic the power, grace and movement of the sun, but not to deify it. Religious ideals aside, Sun Salutations are the backbone asanas of any Yoga practice, regardless of style. More restorative classes create gentle, peaceful arcs of movement, slowly working through the progression. Power Yoga classes will hold each pose for much longer and or will increase their speed to maximize the cardio benefit. Regardless of the tone of the Yoga class, the series of asanas remains constant, and a complete series can bring a sense of strength, flexibility, toning and focus to the practitioner. They are a wonderful way to begin a practice, or to simply begin one's day. While each asana on its own can offer tremendous benefits, it's both the complete series and sequence that can lead to overall good health and wellness.

If you live in a climate, as I do, in which the sun is often stealth, I recommend doing whatever you can to enjoy the sunshine when it's available. On cold days, put a comfortable chair near a sunny window and close your eyes to soak up the gentle rays. Even in chilly weather, bundle up and head out for a short walk. I'm not a believer in tanning beds, due to the skin damage. I believe that natural sun is much healthier, even if it's in small doses. So, find what you need to do, during the long, dark months, to get what little sunshine you can. Remember to exercise in ways that help boost your endorphins, and always appreciate the sun when you do have it.

Although we're into "Mud Season" right now (Maine's euphemism for Spring), just being outside and getting a little bit of early yard clean up down can feel magnificent. Just remember to wear both sunscreen and Wellies. Even mud can be a great reminder that the sun is melting away the snow!