Image Description: A loaf of bread. A large piece has been torn off.
Life is too short not to prioritize joy and delight. And sometimes, thankfully, it just finds us.
From time to time, I like to share this poem from Mary Oliver:
Don’t Hesitate If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy, don’t hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty of lives and whole towns destroyed or about to be. We are not wise, and not very often kind. And much can never be redeemed. Still life has some possibility left. Perhaps this is its way of fighting back, that sometimes something happened better than all the riches or power in the world. It could be anything, but very likely you notice it in the instant when love begins. Anyway, that’s often the case. Anyway, whatever it is, don’t be afraid of its plenty. Joy is not made to be a crumb.
Image description: A pocket watch is colliding with sand, in motion, as if it’s been thrown to the ground or perhaps washed up from the ocean.
Today marks the two year anniversary of my COVID lockdown alongside most people in my state. I know this is also true for many others elsewhere. It’s always interesting to see social media memories pop up on March 12, because that was the last day of the more-typical, “Before Times.” We had no idea what was coming.
We’re still grappling with how this affected us. At the time, I felt all the disorientation that everyone did, but I could not have anticipated how remarkably isolating the next 15 months would be. I also cannot deny that alongside that unexpected struggle, I grew a lot as a person, and I wouldn’t want to give back that growth. That’s not to put a positive spin on what was traumatic for us; I’m just very aware that my struggles and growth coincided, both in very deep ways.
This was the kind of situation none of us could have ever foreseen. Now, we’re in a different position, but the pandemic is not over either. We just keep living forward in small increments of time and making meaning as we can, because how else can you live something that is uncharted? Hopefully, we haven’t lost our larger, farther cast out hopes, but maybe they come in and out of view, depending on what part of this era feels activated in our bodies at any given moment.
I don’t have any grand words or gestures to sum up these two years, either the struggles or the growth, but in both, we need to honor our grief. And it seems important to mark this day.
Pygmy seahorses are tiny and adorable. Earlier this week, I was watching a nature documentary where one was featured, and I was floored by their cuteness. It led me on a deeper dive of learning more about them because I’m just plum delighted they exist. As adults, they’re a centimeter big, and they blend in with their coral surroundings (how do they find each other?)
When life is stressful on land, it’s just kind of nice to know that these cute beings exist.
Image Description: The musical notation and harmony for the first line of “Amazing Grace.”Public domain image.
During his time as a Presbyterian pastor, my chosen Dad, David, used to do this silly little thing unconsciously until we pointed it out to him. Every time the church sang the hymn “Amazing Grace,” and we hit the highest note —
“Amazing grace, how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like *meeeeeee*”
he would lift himself up higher on his toes as he reached for the note. It was a very dear visual. He would do this on every single verse, mostly unaware that he was doing it.
Yesterday, I led a church service with this hymn, and in a very subtle way (nowhere as obvious as he used to do) I would flex that part of my foot and lift myself ever so slightly higher just to feel connected to him.
Image Description: A pathway is in the center of the image with cracked dry land and a tree with no leaves on the left side and lush grass and red flowers on the right side. Credit: Pixabay/CC0 Public Domain
We’re going to have a really lovely, warm day today. And… it’s going to snow tomorrow.
Such is March in Michigan.
We’re in that time of year when the temperatures and conditions vacillate, so there’s an opportunity to roll with it and maximize what you can maximize on all sides of those conditions. Need to get outside with some sunshine and shed a coat? Great, make sure you don’t miss what’s possible on this day. Need a cozy day indoors to finish chores you want to do? Great, make sure you don’t miss what’s possible tomorrow.
And I suppose that’s a good metaphor for life too. Sometimes, we have to look at the conditions and maximize what we and others need based on what’s possible in the moment. No need to concretize those conditions or their limitations. They offer certain possibilities, and then, in many situations, they’re going to shift. We can roll with it and maximize what we can.
Text: I am washing my face before bed while a country is on fire.
It feels dumb to wash my face and it feels dumb not to.
It has never been this way and it has always been this way.
Someone has always clinked a glass in one hemisphere as someone loses a home in another, while someone falls in love in the same apartment building where someone grieves. The fact that suffering, mundanity and beauty coincide is unbearable and remarkable.
