Image of the Week: The Gathered Self
© D. Yael Bernhard
It's not often that I do a self-portrait. This is one of them, a small interpretive painting on grey paper completed just a week ago. I nearly titled it "Self-Portrait with Covid," for that is what is depicted here. For personal, medical, religious and ethical reasons, I chose natural immunity over the vaccine. Three weeks ago I finally caught the virus after my daughter was exposed to it at her job. She tested positive, but was completely asymptomatic. I was moderately sick for six days.
This is not the first time I've tried to paint the experience of fever. It's easy to understand why primitive people believed sickness is the work of evil spirits, for that is how I feel when my body is taken over by this strange altered state. My entire outlook on reality changes as my physical concentration increases and my mental state becomes diffuse. Fever is one of the primary defenses of the immune system, so I try to surrender to it. Indeed, I felt capable of nothing else, as I gathered myself into a resting state, my body knitted to my environment as day passed into night, and night into day. The last of the autumn foliage was falling, leaving only a few clumps of rusty brown oak leaves clinging to the treetops. The world was transforming into a texture of blacks and greys.
Each November I lament the loss of daylight and color, yet part of me is intrigued by the emergence of these monochromatic textures. Even as the trees go into a state of much-needed rest after the hard work of summer's photosynthesis and growth, my eye is relieved by the diminishing hues and sudden dominance of graphic shapes. Trees are much easier to draw without their leaves, and their starkly eloquent silhouettes beg to be drawn. The discordant colors of the autumn sky matched my internal state, so that I felt the boundary between myself and the surrounding forest soften. Alone in my quarantine except for my daughter and one vaccinated friend who came and went, I felt suspended in a rarefied state as the fever coiled and flared within.
Illness is a natural part of life, and blessed with good underlying health which I strive to cultivate and protect, I trust the immune system provided by my Creator. Sickness challenges and strengthens a healthy immune system, which is a constantly changing, unimaginably intricate interplay of millions of bacteria, viruses and fungi. My goal is to live in harmony with that microbiome. My allies are medicinal mushroom extracts, herbal infusions, and probiotic foods – most of which I make myself.
Like a powerful storm, sickness is a humbling reminder of our mortality, and of those who have passed before us. When the patriarchs and matriarchs of the Book of Genesis die, it is said they are "gathered to their kin." I felt gathered to something larger than myself, to the passage of temporal time, to the world of nature around me, and to memories of loved ones who passed through my mind, both past and present, dead and alive. I especially felt the presence of my father, of blessed memory – and of a particular bird that perched on a branch outside my window. If you look carefully, you'll see the bird's silhouette in the upper left of the painting. In my flushed and feverish state, I wondered: was that my father's spirit watching over me?
I'm grateful to have passed through this illness and acquired the natural immunity I hoped for while the weather was still relatively mild – and to have recovered from this virus that has plagued our society with so much fear and division. We must each gauge the risk-to-benefit ratio for ourselves in deciding which path to take – and in a true democratic society, that freedom of choice will be preserved, and individual sovereignty over our bodies respected as a basic human right. I drew upon decades of experience with herbal medicine to ease my symptoms, and had the prayers and support of friends near and far. I have no regrets – and neither does my vaccinated friend who helped me, even though he contracted a mild case of Covid a week later, and passed the virus to two other vaccinated friends who also developed mild symptoms – proving that vaccinated individuals can, and do, transmit the virus. We're all doing fine – and I respect their choices, each for a different set of considerations.
How long does natural immunity last? Decide for yourself: a compilation by the prestigious Brownstone Institute of 81 of the most robust scientific studies on the subject are summarized and linked here. Scroll down to the chart, and draw your own conclusions.
A good week to all –