No Man is an Island
Considering these words of 17th century poet John Donne,they are just as relevant today as they were when he penned them so long ago. The entire world has been thrust into almost global quarantine in hopes of "flattening the curve" of this pandemic that has held sway over us for months. Those infected quarantine themselves in hopes of not infecting others. Those not infected quarantine themselves to help curb the spread, choosing not to be like the bee, that unknowingly spreads pollen from flower to flower.
Now we have become our own private islands, separating from those we love, and those we don't love, in hopes that soon the virus will be quelled and the declaration of freedom rings once again. But we are not, can not be islands. Our humanity yearns for contact, affirmation, and encouragement from others. We need the expression of empathy, the bond of camaraderie. Though forced to become human islands, our souls remain connected. We share pain and triumph, worry and assurance.
When this crisis is over, when we once again rejoin the continent of our existence, how we reached out as islands will strengthen the bonds we had before. In enduring alone, yet together, the continent will be forever changed, strengthened and beautified.
No man is an island,
entire of itself;
every man is a piece of the continent,
a part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less,
as well as if a promonotory were;
as well as if a manor of thy friend's
or thine own were.
Any man's death diminishes me,
because I am involved in mankind;
and therefore never send to know
for whom the bell tolls;
it tolls for thee.
John Donne, 1623
