It’s like we’re living with no destination. We can go out for a walk but can’t stop casually at the store or the library or café. Maybe wave to neighbors through a window.
To call what we’re doing “monastic” misses the mark. After all, monks live in communities, working and praying together. And being single, as he is, still doesn’t mean monkish.
We can’t hug or even touch anybody outside of our household, not if we’re maintaining quarantine.
Humans are social animals, after all.
At the moment, the one thing that makes sense doing is prayer.