I had a really hard time focusing today. I’m not quite sure what it was. It was hot out – and muggy – but it wasn’t nearly as oppressive today as it was last week. As indolent as we felt, Karl and I struggled to finally drag ourselves out for a walk this evening, but didn’t actually manage to get ourselves out the door until a bit later than usual. I’m so glad we went when we did, though, because we encountered this fabulous Wind Goddess along the way.
Doesn’t she look like she’s flying across the sky, long hair streaming behind her? I think she was trying to cool things off a little bit as the sun sank below the horizon. But maybe the cooling off was more metaphorical than literal?
This month is turning out to be as volatile as both the astrology and numerology would have us expect. Yes, the roadmaps are all pointing to the same thing: dramatic upheaval and a resurgence of the virus, as the alignments that were occurring when the Coronavirus started spreading here in the U.S. are actually reoccurring, bringing the lessons learned (and not learned) home to roost. Believe it or not, this is probably the calm before the storm.
Expand My Horizons
I’ve been trying my best lately to skirt the massive elephants in the room. Let me tell you, that is not an easy task.
It’s hard not to talk about everything that’s happening before our eyes. The pandemic, the social justice and Black Lives Matter movements, the deployment of secret police by our national government in an effort to create photo-ops for campaign material, the use of tear gas by these armed nationals on our own fellow citizens. The list is far longer than this, as I know you are well aware.
Given the difficulty I’m finding in talking about other things, it’s become clear to me that I need to expand my horizons. I just re-read that sentence and had to chuckle at myself. Here I am, trying to maintain what essentially comes down to a self-quarantine (or close to it) and I’m musing about expanding my horizons. How oxymoronic is that?
I need to sign off now and read my book. Sometimes, we all need to just escape for a while.
Perhaps instead of cooler weather the Wind Goddess is bringing in some new ideas and musings for me to explore. Let’s hope.
So far, I’ve been extraordinarily lucky not to have been asked to sacrifice a great deal as a result of the pandemic.
I’m grateful that no one in my family has been hit with the virus (yet), although I have had a few friends contract it. Thankfully, there have been no hospitalizations (yet).
Part of the ‘luck’ I feel Karl and I are experiencing is a direct result of our ability to aggressively keep to ourselves. Both of us are able to continue our work from home. Yes, even my work – which I suppose might be an interesting blog post in itself.
A key to a lot of that aggressive isolation is continuing the protocols we began back in March, even though our state began ‘opening up,’ albeit carefully, a few weeks ago.
Discovering What’s Necessary
Karl and I discovered in those early months of the pandemic that we really don’t need to run around anywhere near as much as we used to. Indeed, we’ve begun admitting to ourselves and each other that a not insubstantial portion of our hopping in the car was related to procrastination.
Needless to say, we’ve both stealthily acquired and honed a few new procrastination techniques – but I can confidently assure you, they do not involve our cars. So that’s a win/win in my book.
We’ve also realized just how little we actually need of anything other than food. And books. Of course, how could I forget books.
A Revelation
So it was a revelation to me today to witness just how thrown I was by my decision not to travel to Connecticut to participate in my eldest sister’s 80th birthday.
Damn. 80. That just doesn’t seem possible. If you were to meet her, you’d never think she was 80. She still works, even, twice a week, in a museum gift shop. And I’m grateful she can do that – I have no doubt it keeps her sharp and provides for essential human contact which keeps her young at heart, in mind and spirit.
Which leads me to my feeling of having sacrificed today in a meaningful way. It’s not been a sacrifice for me to ‘hard quarantine.’ It’s been annoying at times, and inconvenient. But having to actively say ‘no’ to myself and restrain myself from jumping in the car and heading north to Connecticut to celebrate Jane’s huge milestone was huge for me. And weighed heavily on my heart.
A Strategy
Indeed, I scheduled a session with a client for this afternoon precisely because I knew I’d be tempted at the last minute to ‘be there’ for her – and to see her kids, my nieces and nephews. But I knew I wouldn’t cancel with a client; that’s sacred. And I felt the wisdom of the foresight of that strategy, believe me. Instead of licking my wounds and second-guessing myself, or worse – feeling sorry for myself – I focused on the needs of my client.
Another win/win.
Saying ‘no’ to myself and refusing to allow myself to go to Jane’s party felt like a true sacrifice. I did it, though, because I want Jane to live to see more birthdays in her 80s (and beyond, Goddess willing). And since who knows whether Karl and I might be asymptomatic carriers, I could not and would not risk attending. And that goes for my nieces and nephews and their kids.
I want our family’s clean record to remain unbroken. And for that, I was willing to sacrifice.
I don’t know about you, but between the relentless heat and mugginess that’s blanketing us (if you live on the East Coast of the U.S.) and the relentless and increasingly horrifying events unfolding in our country on a daily basis, I feel like I’ve reached my saturation point. So when I asked the Ocean Oracle (by Susan Marte) for a fresh message we could all hold as a new Point of Focus, I chose what feels like another perfect pick (PP).
As can be seen from the photo above, I chose Fog – Stillness.
Why do I feel this is a PP? Because I am finding it increasingly difficult to continue ‘going with the Flow.’ Don’t get me wrong. There’s no doubt that keeping Flow as a Point of Focus in my daily life has served me well. And it’s not even as though I intend to just throw Flow out the window.
No. If I sense Flow is an appropriate response to a particular situation or stimulus, I will continue to embrace its wisdom. (And I have to mention, Karl and I were amazed at how often, since I chose that card for our collective contemplation, the word flow has shown up in the Medicine Cards* I’ve been selecting on my day, as well as tarot cards I’ve been consistently choosing in our early evening walks.
I’ve been receiving, “Flow, flow, flow” over and over again. So yes, this message has been received and reinforced.
Recent Escalations
And if you’ve been joining me each day or at least mostly keeping up, you know that the guidance we’ve been receiving from other oracles (The Crone Tarot, by Ellen Lorenzi-Prince for instance) has also been pretty consistently advising to come together to recall wholeness, goodness and caring.
While I can only speak for myself, and I probably need to bear in mind that I’m still a bit sleep-deprived, I feel it’s important to acknowledge that making the conscious choice to remain in the flow, and do our best to heed the call to encourage wholeness and goodness while in the midst of a pandemic – is no small feat. While it sounds relaxing and easy, it’s actually a lot of work.
Yes, we can do our best avoid getting caught up in (or snagged) by the rocks and branches we encounter every day, the fact remains that it takes a lot of energy to keep our heads above water. And over the past couple of days, I started to question just how much more ‘flow’ I’d be able to manage.
Photo: L. Weikel
Dearly Needed Respite
And so it was with a huge sense of relief that I chose the Fog card this evening. Stillness. It feels like the perfect message for me in this moment, and I trust it will offer you some welcome permission to be still too.
I want to share what the guidebook offers:
“The Story
She sat in the hollow, surrounded by fog. She didn’t know which way she had come, or which way to go. The vapour was tangible, but her direction was not. She wasn’t scared – the veil of fog felt safe. She had never realized the stillness of fog, the cloak of silence it offered. She was in her own little world, fully present to herself, yet removed from that which was ‘out there.’ It was a chance to just be – to be in that stillness. She didn’t feel the desire to venture forth without direction. She was happy to have this time to be by herself, hidden from view. She felt this fog was the earth’s way of surrounding her by the nurturing embrace of water, without drowning her. She knew she was strong enough to rely on herself and her intuition, away from the watchful gaze of others. She had faith that when the fog lifted, she would be in the perfect place – in the place she was meant to be.
The Messages
What are you hiding from? What is hidden from view? What is visible? What is invisible? Trust that what you need to see is either right in front of you, or will soon present itself. Focus fully on your self. In the busy-ness of the world, take time to be still, to recharge yourself and recalibrate your bearings. Allow stillness to envelop you and be present to the gifts it offers. Use the cloak of protection stillness provides, to stretch into who you are. Walk the path of your instinct – it will lead you in the right direction. Even when feeling alone or isolated, know that you are completely supported by the universe. She is keeping you safe in your sacred place.”
My Take
The bottom line of guidance I receive from this new Point of Focus is that it is ok for us to step out of the flow and take cover. Wrap ourselves in the cloak of invisibility that Fog provides us and rest in the Stillness.
Before we take a stand or make any decisions about how to react to anything that may be happening in the outside world, the perfect response in this moment is to step back. Recharge. Recalibrate.
Indeed, when we remember that, in addition to witnessing armed troops being deployed by a fanatic to manhandle and essentially kidnap fellow citizens in specifically targeted Democratic cities (nakedly politically motivated by our own president) we are in the midst of a pandemic that is exploding in our country – seems to me the most comforting thing we can do in this moment is cloak ourselves and rest up.
Definitely another ‘Perfect Pick.’
We need to gather our strength for the coming storm. But for now: We must practice Stillness, my friends. Wrap ourselves in a Fog that holds and hides us and permitting us to safely gather our strength and wits for what’s to come.
I was going to title this “There’s the Other Shoe!” or something like that, and then I realized all the crazy destruction of the Rule of Law in our country that’s flagrantly taking place in plain view of us and the rest of the world isn’t ‘THE’ other shoe. It’s just ‘another’ shoe.
Welcome to the apocalyptic Final Five Months. They’re either going to be the final five months of DT’s presidency or the final five months of the United States of America as we know it. And as I mentioned the other night, no matter what happens on election night (just like it didn’t matter how the Supreme Court ruled), if he wins: we lose; if he loses: we lose because he acts out, throws a bomb into the toilet (or worse), refuses to respect the election results, and dares anyone and everyone to remove him from office.
Whoa, Lisa. That’s dire. Aren’t you being just a tad hyperbolic?
No, actually. I don’t think I am.
Not the Half Of It
I sensed this week would be a challenge. The eclipse took place over the weekend, and it just felt to me as though it was going to kick off a month of unprecedented revelations and discoveries of corruption and rot throughout this Administration beyond our worst fears – including its malignant enablers in both Houses, but especially the Senate.
Sadly, I don’t think we’ve seen the half of it yet. (Then again, to be fair, it’s not even been a full week since the eclipse.)
But believe it or not, I’m trying to rein myself in. I’m trying to refrain from gaming out the repercussions of DT’s commutation of Roger Stone’s sentence and the effects it will have to the bigger picture.
I’m trying to wrap my head around the fact that DT did this, tonight, when we also received confirmation that the number of positive Coronavirus cases in one single day in our country topped 70,000 tonight, too. In case you’re keeping track, only one week ago we were horrified that there were more than 50,000 positive cases diagnosed in one day.
These are daily cases. Over 70,000 people tested positive today. And our president just commuted the sentence of a man who said out loud just today (when requesting a commutation) that he deserved it because he resisted providing evidence of the president’s complicity in a crime.
Step Back – Re-think
I chose cards a few days ago requesting guidance on how we might want to view and respond to whatever unfolded this week. As you might recall, I chose Stingray – Flow the first night, and then followed up in the next post with Jellyfish – Hidden Gifts and Sea Glass -Transformation.
Choosing the Flow card was in itself a comfort. In some ways, every moment I deliberately chose to go with the flow and not worry over “What ifs” provided my nervous system with opportunities to remain peaceful, which in turn kept me centered and even hopeful every now and then.
The Hidden Gifts and Transformation cards were the ones I chose specifically for guidance on dealing with DT’s reaction to the Supreme Court’s ruling on his tax return cases, so it feels incumbent upon me to actively resurrect them in our consciousness.
There are hidden gifts in the blatant erosion of the Rule of Law. Our country is being threatened from within in a way that rivals anything in our just-shy-of 250 years, with the possible exception of the Civil War – and it may even, pardon the irony, eclipse that.
Hope
But my eyes keep going back to a couple sentences in the accompanying text to The Ocean Oracle, in ‘The Story’ of the Sea Glass:
“(…) She thought of the journey the glass before her had taken, how these pieces were all parts of something else at one time. A bowl, a jar, a bottle – some sort of vessel. And how these vessels had been abandoned. Or lost, or broken; left to the rhythms of nature, broken down over time. And she thought of the forces which had shaped the sea glass in front of her – forces which broke down the original structure by pummeling, pulverizing, caressing into a shape which was softer, translucent, and more adept at change. (…)” (emphasis added)
I want to hold on to hope that our country and everything we stand for will, in the coming days, grow more translucent and adept at change as we face, head-on, the gifts that are hidden in the egregious behavior and neglect that’s being perpetrated on us and our system of government every day. Every day there seems to be another shoe dropping. Please let us discover the hidden gifts they reveal that lead to a transformation that benefits us all.
I took a ride late this afternoon to enjoy a little bit of alone time with my beloved Tohickon Creek. But I’ll be honest: it wasn’t enough. I’m going to have to go back – and soon. My mesa rode shotgun, though. And I’m pleased to report, as can be seen, she was considerate of others.
Even though it’s easy for me to maintain complete isolation when I go to the creek (primarily because I won’t stop or sit along her banks if there are any human beings in sight), I find I’ve not been to the Tohickon anywhere near as often as usual. I realize it’s not because I’m wary of visiting the creek. It’s because I so rarely get in my car and drive anywhere anymore.
Yes, I can walk there from our house, and I do – occasionally. But my more routine visits were always spontaneous stops on my way to, but more often than not on my way home from, client appointments, errands, and various other excursions.
As a result of the pandemic, I barely drive anywhere anymore.
Refreshment
This was the temperature display at a bank along Route 611 this evening. While I grant that this outdoor thermometer tends to routinely lean toward the high side, I can vouch that my car’s thermometer indicated 90 degrees at that same moment. And as you can see, it was nearly 6:00 p.m. when I took this photo. Earlier in the day, it had been even hotter.
Imagine, then, my gratitude when a mere mile and a half away, I pulled off the road and alongside my favorite place in the world. How could I feel anything other than magically refreshed, allowing myself to drink in the serenity of this place?
Tohickon – Cool Respite – Photo: L. Weikel
Reflection
I’m finding myself contemplative on this eve of our country’s birth. I am marveling at how different this 4th of July weekend feels, for so many reasons, obviously.
Because of the pandemic, we’re not going to be traveling to Connecticut, where we’ve celebrated for decades. That’s a big break from tradition, and I feel wistful recalling the homemade blueberry muffins and Motherpeace readings, to name a few of my favorite memories. (Not to mention Jarts, croquet, lobsters, Wimbledon, and a myriad other treasured experiences.)
On a larger scale – from the personal to the national – it feels like this Independence Day is being viewed through a completely new pair of glasses. Suddenly, we’re seeing who we are as a country with an incredible new clarity that’s both deeply uncomfortable and also truly liberating.
The fact that we’re even discussing our historic oppression and mistreatment of our fellow Americans (including those who called this land home for thousands of years before white people ever stepped onto these shores) is heartening and exciting.
This is our history. It is important to tell the truth, even if it’s ugly and painful. Because that’s where our true freedom rests. In honesty. In gratitude. In forgiveness.
Knowing a good thing when they’ve found it, several grackles continued to frequent our feeders today. While they did become a bit petulant and mouthy as the afternoon grew long and the peanut coil emptied, this only reinforced my commitment to sharing with you the message of Grackle Medicine – Part 2!
And so it was that, when I checked my trusted and dog-eared copy of Ted Andrews’s Animal Speak*, the entry for Grackle made my jaw drop. I will synopsize here:
Grackle –
Keynote: Overcoming Excess and Emotional Life Congestion – Cycle of Power: Early Spring
Although the grackle is often considered part of the blackbird family, along with crows and starlings, it actually is not. It is part of the meadowlark and oriole family of birds. It is a large black bird with an extra-long tail. About its head and shoulders are iridescent feathers that change from blue to green to purple or bronze, depending on the light.
This coloring often reflects a need for those to whom the grackle comes to look at what is going on in their life differently. It says that situations are not what they appear to be and you may not be looking at them correctly – particularly anything dealing with the emotions.
Keep in mind that black is the color of the inner and the feminine. The purple and bronze coloring about the head especially usually indicates that emotions are coloring our thinking process. The grackle can help us to correct this.
During courting season, the male grackle will fold its tail, creating a diamond-like trough. This diamond shape is often reflective of activation. It hints at a need to become active in regards to emotional situations. Have we been too passive in our emotions? Are we simply rehashing and talking about them without doing anything to correct the emotional situations of our life? The grackle is a noisy, chattering bird and may be a reminder to quit talking and do something.
(…)
Grackles have inside their mouths on the hard palate a keel which helps them cut open acorns and eat them. We have often heard the expression, “It’s a tough nut to crack.” Well, this reflects the role a grackle can serve as a totem. Dealing constructively with our emotions and those people and things in our life which aggravate them can be a tough nut to crack. The grackle can show us how to do this.
Grackles love to live in pine trees. Pine trees are very therapeutic to emotional states. In a form of homeopathic medicine known as flower essences, the essence of pine can be used to help alleviate strong emotional states, particularly feelings of guilt. Again this reflects the grackle showing up as a sign to help you clear the emotions.
Emotions that are not dealt with can congest our life, aggravating or even creating congestion in the body at some level. The grackle can serve as a warning to be careful of this possibility, but it can also help show us how to prevent it from occurring. The droppings of grackles can serve to culture fungi which, if the wind blows, can cause a pneumonia-like infection.**
Most illness is symbolic. Congestion, especially pneumonia-like in appearance, can tell us that we are holding in our emotions. It can reflect a suppressed crying or a refusal to deal with certain long-standing problems and issues. (Have we neglected situations, giving them time to be cultured?) It can reflect a refusal to take in new life and new approaches to life, and so we become congested with old emotions.
The grackle shows us how to handle this. It can teach the proper expression of emotions. They can show us where excesses are dissipating our life force and facilitating a congestion of growth and movement. They can teach how to get back to creative and beneficial experiences and expressions of emotion.”
Grackle sampling – Photo: L. Weikel
So Many Take-Aways
Hmm. Wow. A lot of the information contained in this entry set bells a-ringing and whistles a-blowing for me.
First of all, who can deny that emotional overload hasn’t been an increasingly powerful factor in our lives as Covid-19 took root in our country? Since none of us have faced anything like this pandemic in our lifetime, we don’t have a first-hand frame of reference with which to deal with it. So our emotions are all over the place. And when we don’t know what to do with them, they clog up our systems; we become congested with emotion.
Secondly, I had to laugh at the admonition: “The grackle is a noisy, chattering bird and may be a reminder to quit talking and do something.” Umm, yeah. Point taken. Indeed, I think we’re all realizing the importance of action over words. Social distancing. Wearing face masks. We either do it or we don’t.
Biggest Confluence of Meaning
But almost immediately, I see how much more Grackle’s message applies in a cultural sense, in light of the George Floyd/Black Lives Matter eruption over the past two weeks. Indeed, it was easy to draw parallels between our current social experience vis-à-vis guilt and facing hard emotional lessons (tough nuts to crack) in the first several paragraphs.
But I nearly fell over when both the trauma of the pandemic and the trauma of systemic racism in our nation dovetailed in the paragraphs on illness. It is as if Grackle was signaling me with flares and sirens that our current experiences are a perfect storm for transformation. We must process our emotions instead of deflecting and burying and denying them as we have, as a culture, for 400 years.
The pandemic is a symptom of the guilt and shame we carry, collectively, over the shameful act of exploiting others based on the color of their skin. And this infection is, in a sense, carried on the wind (which is why face masks protect us all), yet the brutality and inhumanity we are confronting now has been carried on the winds of time.
A Lot to Contemplate
I’ve read this information by Ted Andrews over and over since I finally succumbed to Grackle’s insistence that I pay attention. And I keep gleaning additional perspectives and tidbits of information that can help us all navigate this cultural storm.
Probably one of the most important concepts we can all apply to our experiences at this point is something one of my most beloved teachers, Puma Fredy Quispe Singona, suggested in a FB broadcast today: We must take care of ourselves as we deal with these great changes. And beyond that, we must remember that Mother Earth is here for us. She wants to support us; she loves us; she stands with us; and she is always there to ‘back us up.’
Grackle – Yum – Photo: L. Weikel
*affiliate link
**Clement, Roland C. The Living World of Audubon (New York: Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, 1974) p. 254.
I never cease to be amazed by the messages, guidance, and insight I receive from Mother Earth and her many children. Case in point: as I’ve mentioned recently, I’ve been indulging my feathered friends by religiously filling my peanut coil every day – in fact, sometimes twice a day, lately. There are some furred visitors who are also indulging (squirrels, opossums, raccoons), but other than the squirrels, the rest sneak around under cover of darkness! What I totally didn’t expect to learn about, however, was Grackle medicine.
I’ve seen grackles at our feeders every year. They didn’t tend to congregate at our feeders in any great numbers, and I never found them to be so remarkable that I considered them to be messengers of any sort. I can’t say I ever thought much about them other than to be slightly creeped out by their cold, yellow eyes that always seem to stare vacantly.
But this year is different.
Move Over Blue Jays
You may recall that Blue Jay seemed to be vying for my attention several weeks ago, leaving me feathers in many different venues and congregating at my feeders – especially the peanut coil. They seemed to be seeking my attention, so I did my best to follow up and listen to what they had to say to me.
Well, I must report that the blue jays and I are continuing to have a dynamic relationship, and they are quite demonstrative in their displeasure when I fail to refill the peanut coil fast enough. They’re also nudges. And I’m the first to admit – I respond to nudging (usually). Ok, sometimes.
Since around the beginning of April or so, more and more grackles started showing up in our yard. I’ve been watching them cultivate remarkable skills at peanut extraction. And they don’t seem to be bothered by my presence in the least. For the past two weeks or so, as I’ve noticed their numbers increasing, I’ve had the fleeting thought that I should ‘look them up.’ But I admit, as soon as I walked into the house, I’d forget the grackles completely.
Why? Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps the upset of watching a pandemic spread across the world and take hold in our country with a vengeance. The stress of watching a virus that’s highly contagious and can easily be spread by asymptomatic carriers first be ignored by our government, then politicized. And then the horror of witnessing a man’s life callously snuffed out at the knee of a police officer, setting off a cultural upheaval over the systemic racism in our country and the scourge of police brutality. A pandemic within a pandemic. Yeah, I forgot to research Grackle for too many days.
But I digress.
Messengers?
Just yesterday, I again remarked to Karl that I think there’s something up with the grackles. I’d just watched one ever so carefully remove a peanut from the coil, take flight, dodge branches of bushes and trees, veer along our neighbor’s driveway, hang a right over our road and fly all the way past three more houses to an intersection. It would appear we’re feeding a massive population of grackles, including ones that don’t even live adjacent to our home. Clearly the grackle population is making a point to congregate at our house.
When a jillion of anything start to show up in my environment, I pay attention. Eventually. And yes, I’ll admit it – grackles are not a bird I would ordinarily wax poetic over. Did I mention their creepy yellow eyes? And they’re not particularly colorful, either, though I seem to recall them in others years having some striking iridescence on their shoulders. But the ones around here lately have definitely been non-descript. So I’ve been a bird snob. There. I admit it.
But they persisted, I’ll give them that. Not only did they keep showing up, but their numbers started increasing. And they were irritating, truth be told, with their harsh chuck chuck vocalization and, as described in Peterson’s Field Guide, “split rasping note” that, to my ear sounds like a scree!. Just this past week, I wondered aloud to Karl whether Grackle would even be covered in any of my books. Part of me thought they were surely too mundane to have their own entry. (I told you, I’ve been being a jerk of a bird snob. It’s a wonder they even deigned to continue vying for my attention.)
Let my resistance be an object lesson. Never underestimate the power of Mother Earth to simply wow us with her insight and guidance.
A travesty. What an awful neighborhood – Photo: L. Weikel
Lest There Be Any Doubt
Lest there be any doubt as to why certain feathered friends might want to move to new digs, perchance at the aforementioned Woodpecker Condominiums, cast your visages upon this disgraceful excuse for a birdfeeder found in the environs of the home of the caretaker of this blog.
It’s a disgrace.
Indeed, it’s no wonder the blog used to call itself ‘Ruffled Feathers.’ My feathers are ruffled indeed.
Yes, I hear talk of a ‘pandemic’ sweeping the lives of the two-leggeds that live near and far. And my sympathies, such as they are, go out to these sad creatures who don’t seem to appreciate the finer qualities of remaining in one’s nest until the predators (seen or unseen) are no longer a threat. And when they must venture outside of their nests, why do they carry on so about keeping their gaping maws (so disgustingly unseemly compared to the noble beak) discreetly hidden from view or risk infection of themselves or others?
No Excuse
In all seriousness, I understand there may be some resistances to dealing with the current hardships being inflicted upon the two-legged species. But for the love of all that is holy (and we peckers do love holes, so I know from whence I speak), there is no excuse for allowing the seed required for not only the robust reproductive vigor of those of us in mature feather, but also the developing young hatchlings to dwindle to such an appalling level.
Plague or no plague, allowing the seed situation to dwindle to this level is wholly (there it is again – something I know a lot about!) unacceptable.
Alas, I will not be able to prove my worth to the Condo Board if I am weak with hunger. There is no way I will be able to peck enough grubs per minute without the supplemental sustenance I require.
I need to take this up with someone in power. If I could only locate one.
Resorting to Peanuts. Ridiculous – Photo: L. Weikel
The weather is turning as foul as predicted. Wind is whipping fat globs of rain and slush through the air like paintball pellets. Hearing the splatter on the windows as I sat down to write, I just realized I forgot to bring in my plants, the ones I’d recently allowed to spend some time outside, ‘on their own,’ encouraging them to reconnect with their feral roots.
OK, phew! I brought everything in. Wow, it’s nasty out there.
This Week
I’d like to welcome all of you to the weekend. It may not feel all that different from the days of the week that you just endured, but I think we all know, for most of us at least, there still remains a psychological difference. Old habits die hard.
And as I write, thunder rumbles.
Even though I love thunder and lightning, thunder can feel ominous – or perfectly in keeping with the milieu of the times. I must admit that’s how it feels at the moment: a perfect, ominous warning.
If anyone felt this week was particularly stressful, I want you to hear me: YOU ARE NOT ALONE! I don’t know if it was the full moon or the culmination of being on lockdown for almost two months, the relentless information, misinformation, lying, and scare tactics we’re bombarded with, or what it is. But this has been a week.
I’ve had a number of people tell me that they’re having trouble sleeping. Even if they succeed in falling asleep, they often find themselves dreaming copiously and restlessly, and often the dreams turn to nightmares.
Early Stretch
It sounds like a good portion of these dreams and nightmares are taking apocalyptic turns. Everything feels momentous these days. We really don’t know what’s coming at us from one day to the next, so it only stands to reason that we play out possible scenarios in our dreams.
Seriously: the mere word pandemic sounds like something that belongs in a Hollywood movie, not the past two months of our lives. And now, with this bizarre push to get the country back up and ‘running’ no matter the cost in human lives, we’re entering a new phase of a national nightmare.
We’ve only just begun learning how to deal with all of this. And yet, we’re almost getting whiplash, trying to keep track of whether ‘the worst is over’ or – more likely – the ‘worst’ has moved to other parts of the country where it appears honesty about testing and infection rates and deaths may not be the highest priority of those calling the shots.
False Sense of Security
My sense is that people all across the country have watched the way New York has handled the initial crush of cases, including the way Governor Cuomo has addressed his constituents (and the rest of the nation) each and every day with facts and emotional fortitude. On some level, even though many find it easy to judge the hell out of them, deep down, we all believe we’re New Yorkers. We felt that on 9/11 and we feel it now. We resonate with the attitude of “New York Tough.”
But I fear the success New York is having in meeting this challenge head-on is creating a false sense of security for the rest of the nation.
The push to get back to an illusory normal is almost certainly ill-advised, especially since the rest of the country (outside of maybe New York and New Jersey) have yet to reach their peak. I have a feeling many of us know that to be true on a visceral level. Much more loss is about to take place, and it’s the stuff of nightmares.
Honesty? Transparency?
And while we hope the governors of the states where numbers are starting to soar (when they deign to reveal those numbers – another tip off that ‘this is not New York’) will put their people first and give them every fact and number and piece of information that will help them make informed decisions for their health and that of their families, if we’re honest, we can see the writing on the wall.
The requisite honesty and transparency are profoundly and horrifyingly lacking.
Perhaps we need to give expression to the terror that courses through our body when we consider how fast and far the Coronavirus is spreading across the country, especially in our nursing and extended care facilities, prisons, and certain factory settings (such as meat packing plants), and other places of congregate living or working. We need to express it so we can release it.
And isn’t that really what this full moon is all about? Letting the light of the full moon shine upon our fears so we can identify them and let them go?
The first responsibility is to be honest with ourselves. Then we can wake from our nightmares and prevail. Together.
Walking this early evening was a particularly spectacular treat. The setting sun toyed with the clouds that cascaded across the sky and created moment after moment that demanded our attention. I would try to swear off taking any further photos, only to relent to the temptation time after time. One particular effort, though, yielded a photo that simply didn’t resemble what we were observing. “I didn’t see that, did you?” I asked Karl when I showed him the photo on my iPhone’s screen.
We both looked up at the sky, the clouds arcing across the sky before us. Then we looked down at my iPhone. Nope. Not the same.
Angel’s Wings
There a chance that even transferring the image to a larger screen (such as a laptop or desktop) will wreck the effect of what we both saw within moments of each other – and that’s the angel’s wings.
To both of us, the photo seemed to clearly reflect wings high above us, holding, protecting, and shielding us (and all our neighbors – indeed, the entire world) from harm. But when we simply looked at the sky, all we saw was the initial beauty that had warranted taking the photo in the first place.
We kept looking back and forth between the actual sky and the photograph. It was as if an angelic or higher force is trying to keep us protected and centered, but chooses to remain anonymous. And it was only through the perspective afforded by the camera’s unique lenses that revealed the support hidden in plain sight.
And regardless of the objective ‘truth’ of unseen protection, it is a comforting thought sometimes to think that it might occur, especially when so many people are refusing to take responsibility for themselves (and all of us). When everything else has failed, there is a power in allowing our imagination to ease our stress even just a notch or two, simply by bolstering a sense that a higher power is protecting us from the most dangerous among us.
Even the most cynical among us cannot dispute the research that establishes that stress makes us more vulnerable to illness and other maladies. Surely feeling that there’s some unseen protection can bolster our immune systems even a little bit?
At the very least, it made us smile.
Sunset Spectacular
About a mile of our walk later, we crested a hill and encountered a sunset of epic beauty. Perhaps it’s a result of all the rain we’ve had lately, but wow. In spite of the reality of the astonishing number of deaths occurring in our country and across the world, it is indisputably easier – at least for a few short moments – to disengage the clutch that always has our minds in gear and allow ourselves to simply get lost in the unspeakable beauty of a moment.
Everything about this evening has been exquisite. The song of the frogs and peepers, the brilliance of the first quarter moon and Venus, the darting and dives of bats freeing themselves from the confines of their homes (perhaps our attics?) as they lunge after mosquitos and other winged morsels.
Yes. For just a moment or two, or maybe even an hour or two if we were lucky, it was possible to imagine that this pandemic was a very grotesque dream. Of course, indulging in such an imaginary experience is only possible if we are lucky enough not to be in the throes of grief; of feeling the oppressive loss of someone we love to this killer virus.
But if we can, if we can find those moments when we can immerse ourselves in the magic that may be accidentally revealed to us every now and again, then maybe we can also find the grace to carry on one more day of ‘physical distancing’ while embracing ‘spiritual union’ with All That Is. You may initially think, “I didn’t see that.” But when it’s revealed, you’ll know; and feel all the stronger for it.
