I am looking for a quiet place and a quiet time in a house full of people. There are chores that require attention (cleaning, laundry before it rains, cooking, and walking the dog). I am also working from home and that takes eight to nine hours of my day where, I stand-in-need, of the mundane demands of my job, I engage with people on tasks that do not seem important. I wish I had time and space to contemplate this pandemic, I wish I could just sit and reflect, I wish I could participate or contribute to the community (from afar or near). I wish I did not have to work. I want to sit in silence, I want to tend the garden, I want to walk a ten-mile trail in silence but not alone, I want to read and tell stories to a captivated (small) audience. I want to blog.
The pandemic is a scary time, it’s surreal, and dreary. It’s a time to step back from our habits, to protect self and others but also to reach out to those who are alone. To reach out to those we love and to those we have neglected.
A few days ago I heard a poem so gentle, and caring that it moved me to take a deep breath and close my eyes, so softly it whispered in my ear like a caress to my soul. Its message almost inaudible settled in my mind to be recounted ever-so-slowly as if time stood in waiting. The poem was meant for me at this moment. I heard and believe it’s promise of a better day to come.
I am grateful to John O’Donohue for this poem To Bless the Space Between Us: A Book of Blessings.
“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.”
