April 2020
by Dr Elizabeth McCardell, M. Couns., PhD
Just before the virus covid-19 broke as the pandemic it is at the moment, I went to my favourite place on earth, Rottnest Island, off the coast of Perth, Western Australia. I discovered at my father’s wake thirteen years ago that I was conceived there, in the Bathurst Lighthouse cottage, so you see, Rottnest is in my DNA. It was also a place my brother and I often holidayed with our parents and friends. We used to swim, cycle and wander through the pines and Morton Bay figs, and marvel at the sights of quokas, salt lakes and nesting birds. One of my earliest memories was of nearly drowning at a heavenly place called ‘the Basin’ and being saved and being quite cross about that. I was four and hadn’t learned to swim properly, but that near death experience was strangely beautiful.
This current visit was a gift from a very old Perth friend of mine, Charles, and we fitted it in perfectly in the scheme of things. Yes, the airports from here in the Northern Rivers to Perth were practically empty of tourists, but everything went smoothly and I did not get sick.
I stayed for a couple of nights both sides of the Monday to Friday Rottnest holiday stay with dear friends from university days and soaked up the gentle companionship they offered. Then, on Monday, I met Charles at the Fremantle wharf from where the ferry departed and we were transported the 23.9 kilometres across the water to that sunny, beautiful island.
Each day was perfect: low 20s, sundrenched, calm and clear sea, white sand and bird song. It was extraordinary really. I don’t think I’ve ever known so many days of perfection. Yet, I felt it in my bones that this was a sacred time, before something awful.
And here we are. We’ve entered a time like the plague, except with wifi, where in-person social distancing is required for the wellbeing of our whole community. Such a term as ‘social distancing’, though must be very worrying for many people, which is why I prefer another such as ‘physical distancing. Hopefully we can continue feeling socially together while maintaining physical distance as much as possible in order to slow the transmission of this disease. I am worried about the mental health of us all as physical/social isolation is a well known contributor to increased feelings of fear, anxiety and depression born from loneliness. We humans, like most other animals, need social connection; that’s the nature of the beast. It’s primarily for this reason that I am offering more counselling sessions via Messenger and FaceTime. Clinical Hypnotherapy is also offered online. Both adapt well to the online format.
My Rottnest holiday feels like a dream, quite apart from everything else, and yet I look down at my feet and see the tan marks of my sandals as well as the tan marks of my bathers, and an abiding feeling of wellness and openness to possibilities. And I can still detect the very special smell of sea and beach rosemary on my rashie. These connect me to my reality, my history, my DNA. My connection with my past is as important as anyone else’s. It’s from my sense of self that I am effective in being present with others. Perhaps this is why we all can contribute: finding the me-ness of me (the you-ness of you) even in these difficult times, so that we can be there not only for ourselves but the selves of others.
The madness of hoarding food and toilet paper doesn’t define us as human (that defines a profound anxiety for the future); what defines us, and it’s true for many other animals, is a capacity of compassion and deep caring. If anything is to come of this in these difficult times, then I hope it is a greater capacity for sustained empathy for diversity in community. That’s what I’m hoping for.
