Column: Offering support as we distance ourselves

We all know that a key to our health and well-being in this pandemic is "social distancing."

While I can feel totally helpless against an enemy that is invisible, powerful, global and doesn't care a whit about what a nice guy I am, I like the idea of social distancing (SD). The practice of SD puts a great deal of power over my personal health back into my own hands, and even enables me to care responsibly for those around me. In this war, distance is power.

The trouble is, most of us are social creatures, and don't do well for long periods of time when distant and isolated from one another.

I read an article recently that described an even better "best practice" for surviving the coronavirus pandemic as, "physical distancing, but social solidarity."

As soon as I read this, I knew that I was part of a social network of personal care and support that extends far beyond the sheltering walls of my home. I knew that there were people in this world for whom I would do anything I could to help stay healthy and safe in this pandemic. And I knew that there were others who would probably do the same for me.

So, I shouldn't have been surprised when I got a call from a buddy who asked me about this very thing. He asked if I'd like to be part of a group of folks that would commit to periodically calling one another during the course of the pandemic. We'd check in and make sure everyone was doing OK and, if not, find out if there was anything we could do for each other - things like pick up groceries or a prescription, fix someone a hot meal, or just talk on the phone.

I told him yes, I'd like to join in, and mentioned that my wife and I were also working on something just like that for our own neighbors who live right here on our block. The idea was to build neighborhood solidarity around a call list of mutually supportive neighbors. Even though we may be facing many weeks of isolation ahead in our own individual homes, we would commit to watching over one another.

The spouse and I worked up a flyer to take around to all of our immediate neighbors - ten households in all. We named our little effort to create a pandemic support network "Howdy

Neighbor!"

One day last week I went off with 10 copies of the flyer -printed on bright lime-green paper to convey a sense of urgency - to visit my 10 neighbors.

Now, here's the part that was both embarrassing and wonderful about these visits. After a decade of living in my neighborhood, there were five neighbors that I had never spoken with. Ever. I got to meet and talk with three of them for the first time, and my life was made better by each of those encounters.

I spoke directly with, and gave flyers to, eight of my 10 neighbors, and I left a flyer in the front doors of the two neighbors who weren't home. No, I didn't receive universal acclaim from my neighbors that I was onto a brilliant idea. But I could tell folks were appreciative that someone cared to come to their door just to talk about neighborly things.

Some of my neighbors signed up, and some didn't, and that was OK. I think we all felt a bit more like we were part of "a neighborhood," if only in a small way.

One more "Howdy Neighbor!" story, and then I'll leave you all to your own devices.

I'm involved with a group of musicians who get together every other Thursday afternoon in the fellowship hall of a local church. We sit around in a circle, play guitars, sing songs, rib each other and laugh a lot. We're all retirees, and most of us are probably over 70. Some of those folks have been playing music in that little group for 10 years or more, so there are some proven bonds of friendship there. Since I only joined the group last fall, I'm a newbie. And, at 67, I'm one of the youngsters.

With a collective age profile like ours, well, let's just say we share some "risk factors."

Every member of that musical circle signed up for our "Howdy Neighbor!" support list, although I suspect they were just humoring The Kid. They already knew they could count on one another.

But, I figure sometimes it doesn't hurt just to say so.

Tim "Mothy" Soden-Groves is a thinker, writer and humorist from Carlton. His blog, "The Rickety Desk of Mothy Groves," is a compilation of his stories, social commentary, and music, and may be found at http://www.mothy groves.com. He wishes you and yours all the very best.