The Good that Remains

Due to an uptick in corona virus cases in Catalonia, the bombardment of troublesome headlines started just two weeks after our arrival in Spain:

Spain Dropped from the “Safe List” Mandatory quarantine for those Returning from Spain Greater berth needed– Stay Away from People

With the resurgence, and inoculations still inaccessible, rousing new hope and appreciating “now” didn’t make headlines. I went back to an article from last March and reread a quote from Anne McClain, NASA astronaut, who explained how she dealt with social isolation and duress while in space. McClain said: “Expect to do things differently. Expect to need to adapt. Expect to be out of your comfort zone. Expect to put others first.“

I jumped to a story about an elderly man, who had survived illnesses, wars and the Corona virus, who said: “I learned a long time ago to not see the world through the printed headlines. I see the world through the people who surround me. I chose to make my own headlines.”

Months ago, after giving up on 24 hour news feeds as toxic to the soul, and having switched to just gleaning news by scanning headlines as an attempt to feel more settled (albeit thwarted), this resonated with me. I found myself making up my own headlines:

Women gets inoculated with new mindset Uptick in free library classics downloads Man carries immunity to negativity.

I instantly felt more positive and peaceful making my own headlines. And I made a conscious decision to see the world by focusing on the selfless acts of people around me, seeing the good that exists, and putting others first.

A photo memory popped up on my phone of Pedro de Orrente’s early 17th century painting, Mary Magdalene, Penitent. I saw this beautiful painting in the lovely baroque Museo de Bellas Artes de Valencia seven months previous. I had no recollection of seeing it, even though it was the one painting I took a photo of despite all the art of Goya, El Greco, Murillo and Velázquez. Orrente was living between Murcia and Valencia when he painted this dramatic depiction of Mary in tattered clothing bathed in light. After looking at it, I knew why I

took a photo of it. Orrente’s painting was done in the Caravaggisti style of dramatic chiaroscuro– the dark background contrasting with an illuminated subject in the foreground. I fell in love with chiaroscuro while living in Rome years ago. Seeing Orrente’s painting again reminded me of seeing Carravaggio’s version of Penitent Magdalene in the Doria Pamphilj gallery. While Caravaggio’s baroque Mary was painted in 1595 and Orrente’s realist Mary in the early 1600’s, both remind me of women who begin to understand something… a thought and a light goes on in their minds. I don’t see the Marys’ upturned or downward looks as contrition as she was wrongfully maligned. I see a woman who has been burdened by the chaos around her and despite darkness gathering, she is reminded of her light, and the good that still remains to be experienced. This is why I am drawn to her.

On our many masked walks around Valencia we are stopped, usually by Spaniards who are visiting Valencia as tourists, and asked directions. I find this amusing as we are new to Valencia. Steve, always patient, helpfully explains in Spanish how they can get to one destination or another, while I nod and offer my two cents. I wonder as they walk away, why they asked us. (This was common when we were in Rome, Brazil or New Zealand, locals stopped and asked us directions). Granted Steve is of Spanish descent and may look like a local. With contemplation, it occurs to me though that like recognizes like. They, still optimistically out enjoying nature and architecture, recognize us as individuals like themselves who are still focused on positive pursuits. Like us they are down to the good that still remains during quarantine as we walk around Valencia.