Maybe it's just me, but the world feels very unsettled now. We have just suffered a huge storm on the East Coast of the United States. People are mourning the lost lives, waiting for waters to recede, waiting in line for gas and food, waiting for the lights to come back on. Those who weren't directly affected by the storm are dealing with progressively worsening health issues, loss of jobs and incomes, loss of health insurance, loss of loved ones. Depression, sadness and insecurity are rampant.
On top of this, we are constantly barraged with negativity whenever we turn on a computer or TV screen. The US is subjected to biased and opinionated news broadcasting and constant negative advertising before this election. Gone are the gentile days when simple facts were reported without editorializing, now we have a 24/7 news cycle of opinion, accusation and animosity. Controversy sells--it gets more eyeballs on the TV or on the internet. People post the most heinous anonymous comments on websites. Insults are hurled with profanity. It just keeps getting louder and nastier. Blood pressures rise, hateful words are PUT IN CAPS, and everyone knows that they are right, and the other guy is just a moron.
It's enough to make a person want to crawl into bed, pull up the covers and take a nice long nap. (Which is pretty much what my dog does every single blessed day, and she seems quite content.) But most of us have things to do, work to accomplish, lives to lead. And we'd much rather just get along. So we get up, and carry on.
It's autumn. The season of letting go. Saying goodbye to this once fresh new year, watching the leaves turn.
We just celebrated All Soul's Day--a time of remembrance for those we have lost. I want to offer up a little sliver of calm. A deep breath of perspective.
Light a candle, make a cup of tea, and meditate on this poem. It's one of my favorite poems by Mary Oliver.
It causes me think of my father and brother who passed, much too soon. My son, who has grown up far too fast. It reminds me of Jeff and my own mortality, and the transience of all of this. It reminds me of how much more we have in common than we'd like to admit. How much more important it is to love, than to be right. It reminds me to let go.
Look, the trees are turning their own bodies into pillars
of light, are giving off the rich fragrance of cinnamon and fulfillment,
the long tapers of cattails are bursting and floating away over the blue shoulders
of the ponds, and every pond, no matter what its name is, is
nameless now. Every year everything I have ever learned
in my lifetime leads back to this: the fires and the black river of loss whose other side
is salvation, whose meaning none of us will ever know.
To live in this world
you must be able to do three things: to love what is mortal; to hold it
against your bones knowing your own life depends on it; and, when the time comes
to let it go,
to let it go.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
be well,
Joan
