WHERE IS MY LIFE RAFT?

 

  I bet you have seen the same signs: "We're all in this together." Or, "We're all in the same boat." Actually, that is not true, especially for a member of any marginalized community, especially Black, Indigenous, People of Color, and Latinx. (My new discovery is this abbreviation: BIPOC.) ANYWAY. We are NOT in the same boat: we are in the same STORM. And given how riven and partisan our country has become, I know we are not in this together. The rich can flee NY City to their summer homes; others can flee to their summer homes on the islands; and on and on.

I cannot complain. I am a white woman of privilege in her mid-70s, married to a man I adore, living in a beautiful house up in the hills of Western Mass. where I can see eagles, hawks, turkey vultures, an occasional bobcat, a very rare mountain lion, bears, tons of birds, monarch butterflies, hummingbirds, and more. I am surrounded by my vegetable and flower gardens, as much as I can cope with now I am older and still 7 months out from knee surgery.

But here is the thing: on FB I saw a post from a digital friend, a fellow Catholic writer, talking about this being the "in-between time." Richard Rohr would call this "liminal space," past "before" and at the "not-yet" place. It calls for extraordinary courage. It means we have to gird our loins, hold fast to our faith and faith communities, and find ways to help us endure this time.  Some days I am doing pretty well, as I am sure you are too; some days I think I almost see a physical darkness on the horizon, and after reading the news, I talk at a very high volume to my husband. "CAN YOU BELIEVE WHAT TRUMP IS DOING? CAN YOU BELIEVE THESE LIES?"

I am going to try and figure out what my life raft might consist of, and hopefully, this might resonate with you and help you get through our days until Nov. 3rd, or, as one journalist put it, "the white-knuckled days until Nov. 3rd."

Years back, before children, otherwise known as BC, Rick and I used to take our blow-up raft from Gleason's to The D.A.R. State Park and slide it into the water. It was a marvelous craft. We both had masks to see through and we would lie crossways on the raft, putting our faces into the water to see what we could see. A turtle! Sunfish! Lots of weeds growing up from the bottom. Some forgotten lumber. This gives me furiously to think, as Poirot would say,

1/ What can I see if I sharpen my vision and look at nature close-up?

--a chrysalis on my Milkweed;

--a closed-head of Queen Anne's Lace like a woven tapestry of white threads, delicate but strong;

--a chipmunk hole, perfectly round, dug in the dirt at the side of the house;

--a huge buteo yesterday perched in a straggly pine, industriously preening its feathers after the downpour;

What can YOU see if you sharpen your vision, perhaps with better glasses, perhaps with birding binoculars?  If you went out to the dirt by your driveway and dug a little ways down, what insects would you find? What pill bugs? What seeds of future life? Would it cheer your heart to write them down in a notebook? It does mine. That's why I keep a daily Gratitude Journal.

2/ I ask myself, "What holds me up in this hard and frightening time?"

--reading Scripture in my Daily Lectionary. You can be Catholic, Protestant, whatever, and gain insight and strength from this daily practice.

--"attending" Daily Morning Mass on my FB feed which includes, of course, the readings, and a Homily, often quite wonderful;

--Pet Videos and pet photos. When I look at a glorious closeup of a horse's face and read that they can recognize faces and expressions, that thrills me. Sheep do too, in case you are wondering. This deep intelligence which runs throughout creation sustains me and gives me hope, even in this time of dire climate change, fires, and floods.

--Laughter:

--I am lucky to live with a man with a fierce sense of humor, and he makes me laugh so many times during the day, hopefully, not while I am drinking chocolate milk. We also share beauty, and when I see a photo of beautiful trees on my Instagram account, I lift up my iPad to show Rick. We marvel at this together.

--Keeping connected to my family, usually through phone calls, more often Zoom on the weekend and texts. Also forwarded photos. I am lucky to live 15 min. away from my second son, so he can come visit fairly frequently, and we have shared several socially-distanced meals on the deck. Now, though, it is in shadow by 5:00 and it is far colder. Sigh. Dinners on the deck are at an end.

--Prayer. I know some of you prefer to meditate, walk in the woods, do yoga, or do some other action which is your form of prayer or connection to Spirit. Fine. Whatever works for you. I say the Rosary when taking my nap after lunch, also offering up the many, many people in need of God's help. So many!

3/ Doing something for somebody else. You can call it charity, whatever. I donate money wherever I can (remember, my honey is still working full-time) to:

 Catholic Relief Services, Save the Children, Joe Biden, ACLU, Act Blue, Survival Center, and more. I need to feel I am connected to a wider world and that what I do makes a difference for some.

4/ Writing. Seeing as I am retired now, I write rarely, but I do blog here, put posts on FB, send submissions to Busted Halo, and used to do short stories published in "St. Anthony Messenger." This all comes under the heading of meaningful work, however you define it.

So, friends, these are a few of the things which keep my "life-raft" afloat. Yours may well be different. Feel free, please, to post, add comments, and share what keeps you afloat as we head towards the election and some time in the future, a vaccination for Covid-19.