Monday, December 28, 2020

a trembling voice, a deep sigh, and a shared memory




I always run out of something I need at Christmas. You know...gift wrap, tape, butter, sprinkles. This year, though, I was especially careful to stock up because I knew I couldn't just dash to the store for every little thing. In fact, I haven't been to the store in weeks thanks to the Covid-19 pandemic...and thanks to people who risk their lives delivering everything I need right to my door. Safely. Thank you very much.

"What you stock up on
tells a lot about you."
~Shilpa Ahuja~

Still, I did come up short on a couple of things. As expected, I ran out of gift tags, ribbon, and bows. I did not, however, anticipate running out of sympathy cards.

I usually pick up a few at a time when I think of it. You never know when you'll need one. The problem is I needed quite a few this year. One for a friend who lost her husband because of diabetes and heart failure, unrelated to Covid. I sent a Christmas card to a childhood friend of mine, and her husband wrote back to tell me she had passed way earlier in the year. A couple of patients and other friends passed on, as well. Which is why I ran out of cards.

"Make sure you stock up
on compassion."
~unknown~

Yesterday, I learned that another friend had died. He was diagnosed with Covid a couple of weeks ago, and succumbed the day after Christmas. His wife worked in our office for many years, and like me, she retired a while back. I haven't seen her or spoken to her for a couple of years. Still, I wanted to send her a card so I was surprised and disappointed to discover I'd run out. I could have sent her an email, or a text message, or I could have penned a short note, instead of running out for a card. But I didn't. I tracked down her phone number, and I called her. It was the right thing to do. 

As lovely as a card can be, I find standard sympathy messages too often trite, or unfitting, or poorly conceived. On the other hand, a trembling voice, or a deep sigh, or a shared memory is not only heard, but felt. Not just felt, but embodied. Not just embodied, but preserved until we can reconnect face to face, and heart to heart as soon as it is safe. The spoken word isn't cast aside to molder in a drawer somewhere. It grows, and deepens, and aches like the longing we feel for one another.

"Words mean more than what is
set down on paper.
It takes the human voice to infuse them
with deeper meaning."
~Maya Angelou~

Worldwide, almost 2 million people have already died of Covid-19. The numbers are climbing. Soon, there may not be enough sympathy cards to go around. What will you do then? What will you say instead? How will you say it?

"Empty hands are easier to hold."
~from CWPoet~

jan





Monday, December 7, 2020

how will we get through this?


If you weren't downright bipolar before the Covid-19 pandemic struck, you might be tending in that direction now, torn, as we are, between fear, and the bravery it takes just to make it through the day. Between periods of chaos, and moments of peace. Between utter despair, and a faint glimmer of hope. Between anger and gratitude. Sorrow and surrender.

"I'm not bipolar.
I've just had a bipolar life
foisted uopn me."
~www.healthyplace.com~

We are already almost a year into this, and there is no end in sight. How will we make it through? And who will we be when we come out on the other side?

"Life can be like an emotional roller coaster
with its ups and downs.
What matters is whether you are keeping
your eyes open or closed
during the ride..."
~Ana Ortega~

Like our eyes, it is important to discern whether our hearts are open or closed to this journey. How are we coping? In Buddhism there are four fundamental practices that are designed to open the heart: lovingkindness, compassion, empathetic joy, and EQUANIMITY:

"Equanimity: mental calmness, 
composure, and evenness of temper,
especially in a difficult situation."
~from word-struck~

As Jack Kornfield puts it, "Equanimity arises when we accept the way things are." He doesn't suggest we give up in the face of adversity, or we passively accept or embrace whatever comes our way in life. He doesn't encourage denial, or indifference, or surrender. He means we acknowledge reality, and reflect deeply on the truth. Then we act out of lovingkindness, rather than giving way to our habitual tendency to judge, blame, retaliate, or cling to resentment and anger. This is not an function of the intellect, a decision we make, or a promise we commit to. It is a practice. A process. A way of life.

"When you find your center
you will not be drawn to someone else's storm.
Instead they will be drawn
to your peace."
~Becky Bro~ 

What if you could find a way to get off the emotional roller coaster that takes you nowhere? Wouldn't you leave the track that carries you in circles, up the same steep hills, down the same scary slopes, around the same unpredictable curves, again and again?

Imagine what it would feel like to escape the anger, fear, and confusion that habitually repeats itself in your life. To tear up the ticket that gets you through the gate to envy, despair, and fury as we head into the uncertain future.

What if, instead, you could be steadfast and strong? Peaceful and calm. Wise and reflective. What if you could bring the whole bipolar ride to a grinding halt? 

How would you do that? How will you make it through? Who will you become?

As Poe put it:
"Deep into that darkness peering,
long I stood there,
wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming,
dreams no mortal being
ever dared to dream before."
~Edgar Allan Poe~
jan