I have written this post in my head almost every day since Mid-March. It continues to percolate anew. Yet, my energy fades before I have the luxury of sitting with the proverbial pen in hand.
Today is different. I finished up my work for the week, took a walk, and said to myself, “Self, it’s time. The coffee has percolated long enough.”
So here I am. In week 8 or so of safer at home. What have I learned thus far?
- Zoom and all its sisters and brothers give one an interesting opportunity to see oneself as others do, literally. While that sounds highly narcissistic, it really is not meant as such. I find it humbling and that is okay.
- Routines are good for helping to keep some sense of normal. The structure helps me feel connected to life as I have known it. The structure also helps me to see what I need to let go of in my day to day movement in the world.
- Working from home daily has offered me a chance for a slower pace, and more rest. This is healthy.
- I have savored the outdoor experience of a daily walk. Each day I am blessed by the blooming trees and flowers, the greenness of life around me, and the incredible beauty of the birdsong.
- Who doesn’t love to go to church in their Pajamas? Just sayin’…
Not only have I learned things about myself, I have gained much:
- A deeper sharing with my children
- More time face to face—even though it is virtual—with my grands
- Dinner every evening, at the kitchen table, with my Tom
- A deeper appreciation for the faith community I shepherd
- A greater love for my co-workers
- A longing for face to face experiences in real time with just about anyone
- An indebtedness for the people I usually take for granted—grocery workers, delivery people, sanitation and cleaning industry workers, farmers, and health care employees
- Increased compassion
- A stronger understanding of how interconnected we are
- A scary realization of my own fragility and vulnerability, and of all on planet Earth
There are days that I think I may come unglued as the frightening realities of the ramifications of CoVID19 take over my thinking and reasoning. There are hours when I wonder if I will ever again be in the pastoring routine I have known and enjoyed. I experience moments when I fear I will never be in the same room as the ones I love so very much, and that I might never be able to hold and hug them again.
I seriously wonder if I have the courage and strength to forge the new path left in the wake of this pandemic. Five minutes later, I want to run down that new path with wild abandon.
And then there is the abundance of knotted thinking in which I cannot grasp the reality of any of the suffering and death happening throughout this world, and wondering if I am living inside a giant bubble. That is, until I actually need to venture out. I don my mask and gloves, wondering what I’ve touched, and who has touched it before me. The self doubt grabs me–did I just contact that virus? And who did I share it with?
In my better moments, I can set all of this fear and terror aside, breathe, and reflect on the potential for change. This is the cup of coffee I most desire to drink and the one I hope is of the richest grounds to brew and percolate.
And that is fodder for another day’s writing.
Until then, may God bless you and may you be healthy and safe.