Valuable lessons learned in solitude as well as in company

January has been a rollercoaster for families across the land. The first harrowing harbingers of things to come began trickling in, case by case, in early January. And by the time the porcine year was ready to pass the mantle to the order Rodentia, China's ninth-largest city had essentially shut itself off from the outside world.

This newspaper has devoted extensive coverage to the desperate situation the courageous people of Hubei province's capital have been enduring. But their plight has motivated those outside the several quarantined cities to appreciate what we have, when we have it.

I had just returned from visiting family overseas when the numbers of infections in Central China and elsewhere began to spike. I considered myself extremely fortunate to not only have had the opportunity to see my parents and siblings in early January, but also to have arrived back in Beijing safe and sound, and to the best of my knowledge, healthy. And despite having a newfound fear of crowded elevators and stuffy conference rooms (why are daily meetings being held with windows shut at this special time?), I am still in the enviable position of being able to count my blessings. When I am tempted to mask up and head outside, anywhere, I resist the urge given the epidemiological disincentives. And when ennui threatens to hamstring a perfectly peaceful day shuttered alone at home with the pup and Bilibili history documentaries, I force myself to think of those shuttered away in entire cities, and my "plight" seems paltry in comparison. As a backpacking university student in Europe, I remember seeking out the quieter streets and even forests of the Balkans and Russia, with these moments making for some of my most memorable wanderlust memories.

But after a few days off the beaten path, it was always exhilarating to rub shoulders with the visiting throngs in Dubrovnik or Nevsky Prospect so as to babble with others, rather than brooks, about my travels.

Chinese poet Tao Qian (365-427) echoed these sentiments with:

When young, I'd not enjoyed the common pleasures,

My nature's basic love was for the hills.

Mistakenly I fell into the worldly net,

And thus remained for 13 years.

A bird once caged must yearn for its old forest,

A fish in a pond will long to return to the lake.

So now I want to head to southern lands,

Returning to my fields and orchards there.

Now that many of my colleagues are self-quarantined in their apartments, their urge to knock on a neighbor's door is understandably palpable. But for reasons of public health concern, they remain in their quarters until the all-clear siren is sounded. I don't know if it's a "thing", but I have been chatting with friends and family a lot more these days on various devices. It's a foolproof way of communicating with those who are important in our lives without passing along viruses－at least of the brick and mortar variety.

Appreciate loved ones when they are around. The rising toll in Central China, and even the recent loss of an NBA legend and his daughter, prove just how fleeting life can be. And cherish your friendships, in good times and bad.

Remember the ancient Chinese proverb, written by some poet named anonymous: "It takes a year to make a friend, but you can lose one in an hour."