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Covid19 Journey Day 23


April 13, 2020
Today’s observation - 32°F – That’s the temperature outside this morning, with a stiff breeze and I’m grateful once again for a warm parka with such a bracing start for the week.  A cold front pushed heavy rain through last night, but we woke to sunshine breaking up the cloud canopy enough to illuminate a hillside of Virginia Bluebells, slowly pushing open clusters of buds.  No sign of melancholy, it is another storm that passed in the night. John, the adjuster from USAA, arrived first thing in his big Dodge Ram pickup to do the estimate. This process is on a roll like a cat eye marble on a sidewalk.  The appraisal was done in my driveway, the appraiser sent it to the insurance claims department, the next day the money was in my account and I had an appointment with the body shop, the rental car will be delivered to me there as I drop my Escape off tomorrow. Boom, bam, bing, bong – I am a pinball traveling the shuts and flippers of the claims department arcade.  Doing my part for the local economy, acolyte of an act of God. The news reports that Covid confirmed cases in Iowa are just over 1900, with confirmed deaths at forty-six. New York has passed 200,000 confirmed cases with 10,000 deaths.   I am teaching today. Taking a break from this pandemic (because I can) to guide students in discussion about the ways we energize our societies.  I’m asking them to use their analytical minds and give the emotional head some space.  I wonder how their weekends went. Being teenagers, probably with a lot of sleeping, gaming and then the calls home.  I am grateful for the briskness of today’s air, it is therapeutic, and I slip out several times to lose myself in that medicine. 

Today’s idea – So much to preserve these days.  Keeping up appearances, keeping up a routine, keeping healthy and happy, keeping my hands clean and off my face, keeping safe and sane, keeping company with good books and music, keeping in touch and out of trouble, keeping up with my lessons, keeping soup on the stove, keeping the weight off, Keeping my heart open and my body limber, keeping a sense of humor, keeping hope intact, keeping the bills paid, keeping my dreams alive, keeping on the sunny side, always on the sunny side, keeping one step ahead and humble.  As I ride this swell of turmoil and mishap, there is a tendency to want to hug up and hold on.  What if instead, the moment calls for arms flung wide in the abandon of a maple seed on a May breeze? This moment will carry us to unexpected places, where we are not sure how things will be. How do we ride it without trepidation? Why not like a wave off Puerto Escondido. Once we land, we can crack open, dig in and grow.

Today’s image – my dear Colorado friend is recovering from her bout with the beast, and she sent me two new poems today.  Here is evidence of the stunning genius and beauty that rides suffering and peril.  I kneel before her words:
A Ghazal in 9 Rooms (3 Invisible)
 “In the room of the mind, we need to touch the things of the world.” ~ After Madeleine Thien

A novelist sits typing in a Safeway in the 17th century.   
Vermeer’s aproned woman slices bread through Eternity.
His kitchens make us heartsick for home.

All writing is a kind of migration, 
a series of rooms, Proust says, we never arrive in.
We open door after door, looking for home.

Our lives are moves in an endless game of Go.
The atoms we disbursed jumping rope on the playground, 
Travel back to Chidambaram, where Shiva Nataraja is home.

Spinoza’s books lay hidden in a salt mine for a hundred years.            
Heidegger wrote, the essence of our being is shaped by death.
My father, at the end, longed only for home.

No one knows where we go when we think.
All a telescope shows is our past:
we search galaxies, secretly. Home.          
          
We marry light to sound, time to space,
break a thousand vows in our sleep.
Every promise reminds us of home.
-          Judyth Hill

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