Tag Archives: covid-19

The Basket Times

Oh y’all.

I don’t know about you, but I could use a hug.  I get them here from my hub now and then, and I am grateful for that to be sure.  But I also miss my mom, and my friends, especially the musical ones.  So many of whom are the most generous huggers.  Out on my run today I encountered many others outside enjoying the (for the moment) mild weather.  We crossed the road to avoid one another.  I think we are all terrified of what’s coming, or is possibly already here among us.

Today I heard from one far flung friend who said that yesterday she felt like a basket case.  And that today she was doing all right, all things told.  I told her that I was feeling the exact opposite.  Yesterday felt like things were going to be ok…..

Then, after last night’s tornado warning, complete with sirens (thank the gods however, not the tornados) and a sleep filled with vivid dreaming that was no true sleep at all, I’ll admit to feeling a bit more fragile today.

Some days we fill the baskets, other days we are busy making the baskets.  And then, some days, we are just the basket cases.  These are the Basket Times.

My sister is an Emergency Nurse.  We chat on the phone occasionally and she gives me the update from her ground level view on this crisis.  She and others like her have heard what’s coming from places far away.  They are as ready as they can be.  I salute these heroes just now with their uncanny ability to thrive and shine in mayhem.   I marvel.

Not all heroes wear capes.  

Grace under pressure.

Cooling palm across my brow.

Eyes of an angel.

Lay me down.

~Elbow

When we were expecting our second child, we were under the care of a team of midwives.  They were much less ‘medical’ in their approach to birth.  Much more willing to let things be as they needed to be as they moved forward.  Our Madeleine was 16 days late.  I’ve been thinking a lot about this idea in recent days as I ponder the notion of control, and the human thinking that we might actually have control over anything at any time.  Especially with regard to the state of things in the world being what they are.

Right now we are in a time of waiting.  A time of deep un-knowing.  It is like that expectant time before the birth of a child.  But darker, of course.  I am reminded of the depth of similarities between the energy in a room awaiting the birth of a new one and that of a room on the edges of greeting death.  I have witnessed both many times and in spite of the differing circumstances and people involved, there is always that moment of stillness, just before and just after this crossing that feels somehow transcendent over all other times.

We are in that moment as a country.

“Sunsets over the city, clouds are rising
And you can see clear up to the night time sky
And if you’re feeling precious, you want to do well
Think of others, ask for a prayer underneath Christchurch bells”

~Hothouse Flowers

We all have our ways of being in the world.  Some doers.  Others shining in ways I can’t comprehend.  There are those (perhaps one leading a large country, for example) who seem built to wreak havoc and sadness where e’er they roam.  I for one am a bit of a watcher.  raised in a variety of settings which helped build long internal antennae, I merely observe.

People are dealing with this crisis in an array of ways.  There is panic and grief and creativity and generosity.   There is judgement and finger-pointing, joy-making and a renewed sense of community in some unlikely places.  Aside from the obvious, there is no wrong way to deal with it all and we must each follow our own path, depending on what kind of basket day it might be.

I’ve heard it said, “this slowing down is such a gift.”  Well, yes, for some.  Those with the privilege to weather the economic storm this slowing down brings, sure.  It’s lovely indeed actually.   I’ve also seen others’ online contributions ramp up in a near frantic wave of “doing, doing, making, making!” which is indeed inspiring in this time of being home-bound and maybe a bit restless and in need of entertainment.  But this level of doing is only right for some.  We must all just do as we can and as we must as this all pans out.

“Cause love’s such an old fashioned word
And love dares you to care for
The people on the edge of the night
And love (people on streets) dares you to change our way of
Caring about ourselves”

Queen & David Bowie

We mustn’t forget to take breaks from the online sphere now and then, to admit to friends (yes, perhaps even professional contacts) that maybe this afternoon, we aren’t quite ourselves.  We must check in on one another and do what we can.

We must learn to be openly alone.

Together.

This is a time of great change and uncertainty.  And we do not know what is ahead.  But perhaps we might learn something from the springtime emerging all around us here in the northern hemisphere.  We can learn to begin again.

“Begin again to the summoning birds
to the sight of light at the window,
begin to the roar of morning traffic
all along Pembroke Road.

Every beginning is a promise
born in light and dying in dark determination
and exaltation of springtime
flowering the way to work.
Begin to the pageant of queuing girls
the arrogant loneliness of swans in the canal
bridges linking the past and the future
old friends passing through with us still.

Begin to the loneliness that cannot end
since it perhaps is what makes us begin,
begin to wonder at unknown faces
at crying birds in the sudden rain
at branches stark in the willing sunlight
at seagulls foraging for bread
at couples sharing a sunny secret
alone together while making good.

Though we live in a world that dreams of ending
that always seems about to give in
something that will not acknowledge conclusion
insists that we forever begin.”

~Brendan Kennelly

From what is broken and empty in our western, consumer driven, capitalistic culture……

……perhaps we might bloom again into something different, better, brighter.

Perhaps we might feed each other in new ways, locally and in balance…..

Perhaps we might make light out of ruin.

Happy first day of spring.  May we, here at Equinox, come to balance once again.

Balance. It was all about balance. That had been one of the first things that she had learned: the centre of the seesaw has neither up nor down, but upness and downness flow through it while it remains unmoved. You had to be the centre of the seesaw so the pain flowed through you, not into you.”

~Terry Pratchett

Oh and ps, if you need a good, cleansing cry,  check out this new work from my dear friend Kim.  (click the green letters!!)  She makes musical magic with word and song.

 

Isolated Holiday

Twist of Hemp ~ Week 19

It is generally held that piping can be thought of as a relatively solo pursuit.  Especially at the very beginning when no sane individual (even a true fan of the music) wants to be within a mile of one new to the uillean piping tradition and practice….

But there is one day a year when all the practicing adds up to getting out to play.  That day is St. Patrick’s Day.  Now, John Joe Badger is definitely not ready for public prime time on the pipes (ahem, neither am I, dear reader, and so we stick to the flute for now when playing in public!!) but as he learns his tunes in lonesome fashion, he never knows who might be listening and taking note that more and more recognizable notes are being strung together for all of his solitary efforts.

 

 

It’s a sad St. Patrick’s Day this year, what with gigs canceled and missing my mates who make this time of year a real favorite of mine.  But though we may feel alone in these uncertain times, we are not.

We must make our merry music still and know we are never alone.

There are plans in Ireland for everyone to sing together at noon in musical and cultural solidarity.

Inspired by Italians singing together whilst in quarantine, I look forward to seeing the results later today online.  As for myself, and of course, good ol’ John Joe Badger, we will spend part of today playing music.  I will keep drawing and painting as it all brings me such solace.

I do so from a place of deep gratitude for the ability to place my energy in these pursuits.  I am safe and healthy while self-isolated.  But there is much fear and uncertainty in the world just now.  And for that, we must take courage and lead from a place of love.  Always.

When the light around lessens
And your thoughts darken until
Your body feels fear turn
Cold as a stone inside,

When you find yourself bereft
Of any belief in yourself
And all you unknowingly
Leaned on has fallen,

When one voice commands
Your whole heart,
And it is raven dark,

Steady yourself and see
That it is your own thinking
That darkens your world.

Search and you will find
A diamond-thought of light,

Know that you are not alone,
And that this darkness has purpose;
Gradually it will school your eyes,
To find the one gift your life requires
Hidden within this night-corner.

Invoke the learning
Of every suffering
You have suffered.

Close your eyes.
Gather all the kindling
About your heart
To create one spark
That is all you need
To nourish the flame
That will cleanse the dark
Of its weight of festered fear.

A new confidence will come alive
To urge you towards higher ground
Where your imagination
will learn to engage difficulty
As its most rewarding threshold!

~John O’Donohue

Lá Fhéile Pádraig sona duit !!!!  

Lying low in Splendid Isolation

“This is the time to be slow,
Lie low to the wall
Until the bitter weather passes.

Try, as best you can, not to let
The wire brush of doubt
Scrape from your heart
All sense of yourself
And your hesitant light.

If you remain generous,
Time will come good;
And you will find your feet
Again on fresh pastures of promise,
Where the air will be kind
And blushed with beginning.”

~John O’Donohue

“Hiding is a way of staying alive… One of the brilliant & virtuoso practices of almost every part of the natural world.  Hiding, done properly is the internal faithful promise for a future emergence.”

~David Whyte from Consolations: The Solace, Nourishment and meaning of everyday words.  (I was reminded of this snippet via the lovely Tanya Shadrick who’s work you should read as well.)

Here we are.

Our worries so collectively numerous as to be overflowing.  Amidst all this corona-consumed madness it is difficult to sort out the complicated feelings we are all experiencing as we navigate an unprecedented global crisis.  I find it hard to believe that just a week ago I was newly home from a few weeks away in a land blessed with color and volcanic breezes.  I’ll admit I am a bit homesick for lovely Guatemala.

Now I am on lockdown here at home.

This is not out of fear for my own safety, but rather a trust in those who study the paths pathogens take, and knowing that to hide away for a few weeks, or more, is to be a good citizen of the world.  I worry for my older relatives and friends and hope they keep to their promises to lie low.  This too shall pass, yes?

An old friend and co-worker of mine, who’s name I won’t mention here, is treating this time of crisis with online mockery.  He is, thankfully, one of just a few.  I know his mocking stems from fear.  Fear of losing his income with gigs drying up.  I remember when he was tenderly tending his ailing father many years ago, and I wonder, would he have mocked if this crisis occurred then?   I do not know.  I try not to judge.  I really try.  Those he mocks are panic buying all the essentials – yet another behavior borne of fear.

Fear and anxiety are so thick in the world just now one can almost smell it.

As a country and as a world community, we are being asked to come together (or rather more truthfully, to stay apart) for the good of those most vulnerable among us, and to allow the hospitals to do what they can with the inevitable scenario as it plays out.  It’s been generations since this level of selflessness was asked of us all – especially of Americans.  Our overriding culture is not one which rewards selflessness, or slowness, or quietude but these are the very things necessary at this crucial time in history.  As I write that though, I am also struck thinking about all of the beautiful offerings I have seen online from people reaching out to one another to give assistance in some way or other.  Propping each other up with offers to pick up groceries for an elderly neighbor, offers to help with child care, calls to be kind to those manning the shops and stores still open with necessities.  And I think, perhaps our WWII era ancestors might be proud of us after all.

What would the twitter feed look like back in WWII???  I wonder……

One can almost hear a shifting of universal paradigms.  This morning I went outside with the dog and a cup of coffee.  Sunday mornings are often comparatively quiet, but this hush was exceptional.  The occasional car went past on the local highway which usually sounds like an angry seashore.  Birdsong was raucous and beautiful.  A sign of spring, yes, but also a sign of the human world having hit the pause button for now.  It’s eerie and beautiful, this quiet.  It’s a quiet I have been craving my entire life.  I find it sad that it has to be a crisis of this level which brings about such a wished-for hush.   But I’ll take it.

A sad time of year for the world’s social calendar to get canceled. As you may have guessed, St. Patrick’s Day will be a quiet one this year.

In the coming days, weeks (and who knows? maybe months) we are all adjusting to this slowing down.  Yesterday my hub and daughter spent the day painting with Bob Ross.  They chose a “calm” painting video of his and got to work.

I too did a bit of painting myself……

….. in a little book I obtained in Antigua and which I covered with a beautiful textile “scrap”.

I painted abstractly from photos I have of the ruins……

I wonder about the state of the world and feel that we find ourselves in a new and unexpected era.  I wonder what we will learn from it, if anything.

With St. Patrick’s Day essentially canceled, many of us are woodshedding tunes we hope to learn.  I like to call these “quarantunes.”  One is called Splendid Isolation, which is apt.

And another couple of tunes….. (I about have the first but still working on the second. And oh, June, your tone.  What is your secret?????)

Sometimes during times of strife, I turn to the music and remember that many of the old-fashioned Irish tunes were composed and shared in times of great turmoil and sadness.  During mass emigration and scattering of loved ones, during times of brutal occupation and ensuing troubles.  I am reminded that we can get through this, together and will once again rollick as one.

We are all just doing the best we can just now, and this is crucial to remember.  We must go gently.  Those unaccustomed to staying at home with little to do might feel a bit stir crazy in coming weeks.  Those unaccustomed to the constant undertow and thrum of anxiety will have some adjusting to do.   This gives me a chuckle as an anxiety-prone introverted wanderer and I think, ‘finally, a scenario I was built for!’

There is a lot of pressure via the online world to turn this time of quarantine into a hub of productivity.  There are posts about Newton and his genius calculus figuring.  And Shakespeare and his writing of King Lear in the time of the Plague.  While I do plan to paint and play music,  these are things I do anyway in my day to day.  I reject this notion that we must produce in order to have value somehow.   Let us give in a bit to boredom.  To not doing all the time.  This slowing down to think and feel on a deep level may be the greatest thing that comes out of these dark days.

Like many, I am nervous about the future.  Besides my day job at the concertina shop (and thank the gods for it!!)  Nearly ALL of my paying work comes from my travel journaling workshops.  We got Guatemala done and dusted just as the virus was beginning to really affect travel plans and the psyches of my participants.  I have canceled my yearly spring trip to do the 2-day workshop in California.  Perhaps things will have come back to some level of normalcy by June and Taos will go off without a hitch.  But I do not know and I am steeling myself for all possible scenarios.  As we all must do in uncertain times.

As we move forward in the coming days, let us merely be gentle.  Gentle with ourselves and kind toward one another.  Most people acting badly are doing so out of fear.  I believe it was fear that elected our current president (and will ye look where that’s gotten us?!).  May we feel our own fear and honor it while at the same time not acting from that place of fear, but rather from a place of love and tenderness for one another.  Keep reaching out online, keep digging in those gardens if you can (dirt is good for the immune system!), keep playing and creating if you feel like it.  Allow yourself to just shut down too if you feel the need to.  It will all be ok.  Somehow.