I have no idea how to survive social isolation, or “social distancing,” as the euphemism goes. As a lifelong extrovert, I need to be around people. Without friends, I feel dead. Lots of websites, even my grandson, are telling me how to wash my hands. But nobody is telling me how to survive social distancing. Is anybody out there listening to the question?

Alone on a Saturday morning, I remember going in 2001 to a meeting of the Grange. Friends in their 80s, a couple who grew up on subsistence farms Downeast, invited us to go with them. Their white car had a bumper sticker that said, “A New Century, A New Grange.”

At the Grange Hall, women were wearing their best homemade dresses. A table to the side of the hall displayed handicrafts, embroidery, woodworking, jams and jellies. Everybody – except us, who didn’t know any better – brought food and a set-up: their own plate, cup and silverware, wrapped in a cloth napkin.

We sat down at tables, on folding wooden chairs, for a potluck meal. Before or after, I don’t remember which, came the program. They recited a pledge. Someone told a joke. They played a game. Our friends, and several other leaders, recited long parts from memory. One presenter, called “Pomona,” told the others about advances in horticulture. Together, ordinary-looking rural people presented one another with an extraordinary program — entertaining, challenging and educational. The evening gave me a glimpse of how, for 150 years, the Grange has enriched life for rural people with little contact to city resources.

Now we are the ones cut off from city life: theater, concerts, spectator sports, schools and colleges, parties, museums and programs. Banned from our usual stimuli and interactions, thrown back on our own resources, we wonder, how do people live like this?

Suddenly the Grangers seem like role models, not leftovers from a bygone era. They keep on keeping on. They get together with neighbors (although we will have to make do with a few at a time). They stay connected with the land. They play games. They have fun. They pick a topic and learn about it. They make things with their hands. They trust themselves and one another. They make a way through isolation, and so can we.

I am going to go walk my dog and linger on the sidewalk with the neighbors. I am going to watch the bird feeder and water the plants. I am going to knit 10 rows on my scarf. When I have finished my chores, I am going to write thank-you notes and call up my children. At night, I am going to play Scrabble online with a friend who lives out west in another time zone.

And then, I am going to plan for brighter days.

Susan Gilpin lives in Falmouth.

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