It’s raining this morning and the view outside my window is bright green. The noisy dog has barked alerting us to an almost-out-of-sight clan of deer. They are making their morning trek from one place along the Cabin John Trail to another. Tree bark appears coal black so the contrast takes your breath away….if one had any leftover to give.
This week is a turning point for me…what about you? The transition phase from our life before Corona to now is pretty much done. We have a daily schedule, food delivery is more dependable, and we connect with friends and family at regular intervals. That humans are creatures of habit has once again been proven correct.
What is missing is not human contact…I have my mother, my husband, friends, far flung family, my granddaughter and my children and many of you. We are in regular contact, in some cases far more than we were before Corona.
What is missing is the unexpected — the sweet and sour surprises that humans of all ages make when they are in the physical presence of the divine…each other. We shouldn’t underestimate this, or spend too much time grieving its loss. Instead….how to imagine it happening? What engagement may provide it?
This past week, the Nationals Baseball Team, held a Zoom fundraiser party, that accompanied a rebroadcast on TV of the clinching 7th game of the World Series. I had planned on watching some part of the game but had pooh-poohed the Zoom party, after all I am on Zoom alot. Somewhere about the 2nd inning I turned it on, mildly curious, and stayed for 3 hours.
The repartee was fast and furious (their drinking may have contributed), it was identifiably male, and filled with surprise. Players came in and out, though all my favorites stayed a good long while. My daughter & her husband, exhausted from another night of sleeplessness, turned it on also expecting to simply check-in and stayed too. Although it never would have happened outside of Covid19’s accompanying sheltering in place, it was, by far, the most non-Corona moment I have had. It felt like a party. And make no mistake, the continual reminders about the healthworkers for whom this event had been planned, were made not allowing us to forget but not dwelling there either.
As with many experiences these days, I don’t have enough distance, it has no ready-made container, for me to make meaning of it or derive any useful knowledge about how to to repeat it.
But am I gonna try more things? Yep.
What about you? What are thinking?
Just to share a moment of unexpected… Yesterday my wife and I were making a “tour” of our small back yard, noting what was blooming, what was just emerging, and wondering what we would be able to do if we can’t get some annuals that bring the hummingbirds in. We have several bird feeders, and as I walked down the narrow side path, a male Cardinal flew by fairly close to me. Another few steps and a female Cardinal was suddenly chirping alarm as she swept away from my right — her nest is in our Nandina just outside our window. Suddenly I realized why our cat has been pushing the curtain aside to sit somewhat uncomfortably on the window sill. We are hoping they are successful in raising some babies this year; last year a Blue Jay knocked one egg and one new hatching onto the path, seemingly out of spite. They clearly have hope for a new year even if they have faced disaster.