April
5, 2020
Today’s
observation – Our county’s first reported case was just two weeks ago, March 21,
and currently with just forty-one cases, the first corona virus death was
reported today – an 81-year-old man. He
fit the fatality demographic perfectly. I imagine his death is a double whammy
now because I also know that funerals are a problem. I hate this for his family and all those who
need to grieve in these days of mandated isolation. The need to mourn with others is primal for
us. It adds a layer of trauma to the
densely stacked emotional stratigraphy.
Across the river in Illinois, I read about a man who was arrested for
keeping his pub open. Apparently, his
neighbors were vigilant and not keen on his public health delinquency. I appreciate the need to get outside and see
people I know, it is essential to our emotional and mental well-being, but someone
could have reminded him that it is good to be adult about choosing the setting,
No? I stayed put at home for most the
day, preparing for class tomorrow and sewing masks. But by mid-afternoon, I could ignore the
sirens of the delicious weather no longer, and pup and I went out to find an
empty slice of woods. We ended up at a
state park west of town. I felt
apprehensive seeing the dozen cars parked at a trail head and scanned the area
for how the hiker traffic was looking.
Apparently, the park was large enough to give space for us all to walk
with safe social distancing. I decided
to choose the trail less traveled. Here in Iowa the wildflowers are just beginning
their blossoms. To take in the floral
procession is an important Spring tonic for me, a visual dose of dandelion tea.
Over the course of the hike I crossed paths with many of all ages. We did our due diligence to keep a wide berth
between us, exchanging smiles and pleasantries.
It seemed the civil thing to do as we gleaned what we each needed to
fortify ourselves. I thought about the possibility of bringing a small group of
dorm students to a park like this, weighing the risks with the benefits. Sometimes sunshine and fresh air in a
beautiful place is as important as washing hands. That’s what I tell my self in this moment of
concern for kids so grimly sequestered.
Today’s
image – I have noticed on my wildflower walks that Iowa has many of the same
species of flowers as I find in Tennessee: Rue Anemone, Bloodroot, Dutchman’s
Breeches, Spring Beauties, Wild Geraniums, Wake Robin Trillium, and Violets. And
many of them are bigger than their Eastern cousins, sturdier too. Maybe something in the water. Gratitude for this kind of sensory experience
to balance the influx of dire news.
Which lens does my beauty seeking peer through?
Today’s
Idea – I’m feeling more lost these days as if out of step, out of kilter with
what I should be doing. An image that comes to mind for me to encapsulate this
mood is from the Tarot deck: the Hanged Man.
Not in struggle, but ill at ease.
The picture of a person hanging by one foot denotes a state of purposeful,
complete surrender, yielding to the larger forces at play. Are the larger forces
house in the invisible world? Are they idea forming into actions? Are we at the
brink of a long cascade of collapses? The wide possibilities of this illuminate
the edges of my thoughts. And how can I
invite surrender to serve me? It depends on what I am bowing to. To surrender to a shift in life rhythms –
when the music changes so does the dance.
To surrender to a rush to join some scamper of lemmings headed for a
cliff edge – hmmmm, I think I’d best step aside of that one. The Hanged Man attributes that I consider
most useful invite a new point of view.
I’m thinking about Carlos Castaneda’s stories on learning how to live as
a warrior on this Earth. About how his teacher, Don Juan, once spoke about
studying the shape between objects and sounds.
It is a fluid and dynamic body; it enables perceptions to move in the space
between too. A space that expands and
contracts like breath and becoming. Here
surrender might serve me as a way to alter those exacting definitions for what it
means to be alive, toward a nimbler emergence of a new consilience between
nature and its opposite. Which begs the
question, what is the opposite of Nature?
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