humanity

Weird Emotions – Day 503

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Photo: L. Weikel

Weird Emotions

I’m finding the enormity of what we’re seeing unfold around us sneaks up and catches me at the oddest times. I’ll be motoring along, minding my business, when suddenly DT will say or do something that shakes my faith in humanity. And then I find myself juggling a panoply of weird emotions bubbling up at the oddest moments.

While I try to keep my intake of the latest news in balance with the rest of my life, I’ll be the first to admit that on those days that I can’t get outside to take a walk, I’m a little fried by the end of the day.

It poured rain all day today. And I’m not keen on walking in wet weather, to be honest. At least not when the temperature’s hovering around 44 degrees. Yet walking plays such a huge role in keeping my emotions in balance; I find it necessary for my survival. It’s extremely rare for me to begin a walk in a pissy, disagreeable mood and arrive home in the same or worse condition. Not to say it’s not impossible; just less likely.

Star Trek

Karl and I watched the final episode of Picard tonight. It was a worthy season finale. But what surprised me most was when the familiar Star Trek music started playing at the end, my eyes welled up and a couple tears rolled down my cheeks! I found myself suddenly thinking about Karl, in whose honor I write these nightly posts as part of my 1111 devotion, and my other sons as well.

All of a sudden I felt this clench in my heart, recognizing the thread that Star Trek has woven throughout my own life: from when I was a kid myself and the first season of Star Trek aired on Philadelphia’s UHF channel 48 (the same channel that carried roller derbies) to right now, when we would gather – pre-Covid-19, mind you – with T and M to watch Picard together.

And all those years in between. Indeed, as we’ve watched Picard, Karl and I have realized that some of the spin-offs and other Star Trek series over the years were actually background noise as we were busy raising the boys. The guys might be watching, but we were either still getting home from work or making dinner or otherwise engaged in being consumed with young family-hood.

So now, mid-Covid-19, we’re going to watch all the shows. At least that’s on the agenda for now.

Mortality Is In the Air

Perhaps it’s the sense that anything could happen at any moment that’s causing my tears to be slightly on a hair trigger. I don’t know. While I can’t say I’m weepy by any stretch of the imagination, I do think I am tapping into something larger. Our shared despair at a lot of the cruelty we’re seeing, perhaps.

I think it was the hope for humanity that was ‘pinged’ in my heart when I heard the Star Trek theme tonight. I want to believe in our better nature. I want to believe that we will rise to the occasion.

(T-608)

Walking Defining Us – Day 202

Posted on by Lisa Weikel 2 Comments
Leaf cluster – Photo: L. Weikel

Walking Defining Us                                  

I gave myself permission today to sit with a book for about half an hour on our porch.

This afternoon, Karl and I managed to slog through the muck that was formerly known as our lawn, shearing it closely enough that – if we’re lucky and the sun shines tomorrow – it just might start to dry out. Of course, I say that, but then I checked the Weather Channel just now and see that there’s an 80% chance of thunderstorms over the next four hours.

It’s been relentless.

Dipping Into a New Book

But I began telling you about my chance to sit down to read for a few precious minutes once the lawn was mowed. I have to admit, it was idyllic. The late afternoon sun cast a golden-rosy glow on everything it touched and the wrens and robins were belting out their greatest hits.

Even though I’ve been reading and thoroughly enjoying another volume I know I’ll be talking to you about in the days and weeks to come, this afternoon I dipped into a book I mentioned several days ago: Walking – One Step at a Time * by the Norwegian author Erling Kagge.

Oh my, it is a delicious indulgence.

Clearly this author appreciates walking to a depth that can probably only be celebrated by others who also walk. OK, maybe others who walk and write (albeit not at the same time). That’s because reading his words simultaneously made my heart quicken with joy and my brain want to mark my page and set off on a long walk myself.

Defining Our Reality Through the Prism of Walking

To give you an example, just to start us out, he describes how walking is fundamental to distinguishing us (humans) from everyone else with whom we share the planet, and how walking took us away from the familiar and opened up entirely new vistas to us. The greatest vista, perhaps, is that of language, which captures the essence of culture.

I love what Kagge says on page 6:

“Human languages reflect the idea that life is one single, long walk. In Sanskrit, one of the world’s oldest languages, originating from India, the past tense is designated as the word gata, “that which we have walked,” and the future is anāgata, “that which we have not yet walked.” This word gata is related linguistically to the Norwegian word gått, meaning “walked.” In Sanskrit, the present is indicated by something as natural as “that which is directly in front of us,” pratyutpanna.”

I find the concept of defining our reality through the prism of walking, relating our concept of time to what we’ve already walked and that which we’ve yet to, both comforting and somehow, eerily, precisely correct.

Tohickon Creek, swollen with spring rainfall – Photo: L. Weikel
*affiliate link

(T-909)

Responsibility – Day 127

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March Sunset – Photo: L. Weikel

Responsibility         

I have a confession to make. I feel as though I’ve shirked a responsibility that I take quite seriously. And yet, the act itself harkens back to a different time in our my life.

Tonight, Karl and I chose to refrain from watching any news on television.

Perhaps that sounds weird. I suppose it’s possible for people to be living life without paying much attention to what’s happening on the national and international stage. But for me? That feels irresponsible.

Actually, I’m feeling a swing of reactions, from a calm sense of relief that I’m not immersed in the world of politics and upsetting news of violence and hate crimes that seem more apropos of Escape from LA than it should be to live in the world in March 2019, to a foreboding sense of moral responsibility.

I’m pretty sure I’ve written about this before. It may have been another evening when I allowed myself to indulge in the sweetness of silence by turning off our television. Yes indeed, I’m pretty sure I even called my post Evening Silence.

Not One Minute Today

Tonight is a little different than that night. In fact, while I haven’t kept meticulous track of my viewing habits, I bet this is the first weeknight I’ve not watched even one minute of news since I began my 1111 Devotion back in November. Wait. That might not be precisely true. The holidays of Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day, and possibly Thanksgiving, I think I may have abstained as well. But holidays are like weekends: major world or life events that demand our attention just aren’t supposed to happen on those days.

Of course, we all know that’s not true; it’s not reality. But we pretend it is.

As a result, as a direct consequence of that pretending, I rarely think twice about what’s going on “out there” on weekends and holidays.

But wow. Today is a regular workday. It is a day that falls on the heels of some wretched events that simply make me want to weep. We are being forced to contemplate the nth degree of cruelty that humans inflict upon each other. And it’s happening over and over again, seemingly day after day. And it hurts.

Have I Hit My Saturation Point?

I’m a bit concerned that I’m reaching my saturation point. That concerns me, because it feels like succumbing to that sense of precipitous overload is playing directly into a nefarious agenda. An agenda being set by those who would have us live lives based in fear rather than on love and compassion.

It will be interesting to see how Karl and I choose to spend our evening tomorrow. Will we make it two weeknights in a row without watching the news? I doubt it.

I guess we’ll see.

In the meantime, I feel my responsibility in this moment is to not watch the news. Rather, it is to do whatever I need to do to keep the faith. To hold the center for anyone or anything I can, in order to help us all survive this onslaught of division, fear, and yes – terror.

Holding Our Center – In Grief – With Ritual and Respect

To that end, in case you haven’t seen this gut-wrenching and culturally unique (but pan-cultural in its impact upon us when we witness it) tribute to the grief being felt in New Zealand, I am offering it here.

I dare you to watch this young man and not be moved. I challenge you to witness these students performing this ancient ritual and not sense our common knowing, deep within our bones, that what is happening to one country or culture is happening to us all.

It is our responsibility to feel the tears of our souls, even if they express themselves as a lump in our throat or a clenching in our stomach. No matter how the tears show up for you, feel them. It is our responsibility – to ourselves and to each other.

(T-984)