The Respite

A Sign – Photo: L. Weikel

For once in a very long time I have essentially no idea what’s gone on in the outside world today. Not only did I refrain from reading anything on my phone, I also avoided watching any of my usual fare that keeps me up to date on the latest facts and figures of how our world and nation is coping with this unprecedented transformation. The respite was unintended but probably essential.

Yes, I know. There are many people who eschew the media and distrust it and the hyperbole with which much of what’s going on ‘out there’ gets discussed. But I’ve come to find some sources that do not so much inflame as explain. And I find doing my best to understand what’s going on so I can make reasoned and well-informed decisions for myself to be at least somewhat comforting.

I like knowing the truth, even if it’s not easy to hear it. The thought of being fed a bunch of lies just so I will supposedly feel good makes me want to rip my hair out. That’s because I detest lies. Lies rob us of first-hand experience of what is. And what else is there to life but first hand experience of what is?

Lies would have us believe that what we’re experiencing isn’t what’s right before our eyes. That’s maddening. That makes the part of our brain that makes sense of things constantly whir in the background, stuck in a whirling rainbow of a processing loop as it tries to make sense of something incapable of logical resolution.

Alternative Programming

Instead of paying attention to the current state of affairs, instead of feeling helpless as I watch people ignore science and instead choose to believe happy talk that’s calculated to have them act against their own best interests (yet again), Karl and I chose to watch two vastly different programs.

The first show we watched was the first episode of Mrs. America, which can be seen on Hulu. It has a pretty amazing cast – but I’d resisted watching it when I first heard about it because it is about Phyllis Schlafly.

I was tempted to just binge watch right into the second episode, but being reminded of the dumbfounding sexism that’s been part of our society for so long was demoralizing. The events depicted in that first episode were from when I was around 13 years old and the Equal Rights Amendment was in the process of being ratified by the states. I remember feeling that it was a no-brainer. I couldn’t imagine it not being ratified.

And thus it began. The backlash we’ve been living with ever since that time when women got this close to being recognized as equal to men. And therein lies one of the utterly maddening truths of my lifetime.

A Bit Better Feeling

There’s no question we’re hooked on the limited run program, Mrs. America. But we decided we needed to drop back to one of our absolute favorite programs that helps us reclaim faith in humanity, Call the Midwife, on Netflix.

If any of you haven’t yet started watching this treasure, I urge you to do so post haste! There’s never been a better time to give yourself the gift of watching this warm and wonderful program.

First of all, I believe there are eight or nine seasons. So you have a deep reservoir to dive into as this pandemic wears on. Plenty of time to get to know the characters, revel in their triumphs, and lament their frailties, all the while knowing (as you will, once you start watching) that somehow or another, even if things don’t turn out the way you hope for a particular character, something redeeming can be discovered in the ashes.

Call the Midwife lets us hang on to the thread of hope. Hope for humanity and hope for ourselves.

Just tonight, the two episodes we watched were set in 1962. The Cuban missile crisis was in full swing and it was fascinating to see the reaction of the English. I was only three when that occurred, so I have no memory of any of the anxiety that swept the world. But the parallels to how life-changing it would have been had nuclear weapons been unleashed to the devastation the entire world is watching unfold now was eerie.

Transformation

We’re most definitely in the midst of major transformation on many different levels, not only in our many societies across the world, but also in our own selves.

In some ways, I feel like I can’t escape the messages, even when I actively opt to escape for an evening. That tells me that the time for hiding our heads in the sand are done. Over.

The respite I had today demands to be repeated. The respite feels as important to the transformation as the bigger, deeper, more obvious ‘work.’ It must be respected as essential as any activism or awareness.

I wonder what May will bring to us.