Being Gentle With Myself

         

I have taken a dip--an emotional dip. 

That was bound to happen, and no doubt it will happen again. Has it happened to you yet? Have your emotions dipped below what you consider an acceptable functioning level?
                                                                                       

For the most part I've coped with this time quite well. Being an introvert helps, for as long as I have books to read, I'm good. I've been content to sit at my desk in the garret and write. 

Most of the time. Most days.

But recently I've felt sadness drift into my body, taking energy and motivation. I don't have to dig deep to understand why lately I feel more sadness than joy. 

How about the day my father's death certificate finally arrived. I was relieved, for there were financial tasks waiting to be checked off the list, but, instead of doing them right away, I set aside the envelope from the medical examiner's office for a couple days. We have not been able to have a memorial service because of the pandemic and who knows when it will be safe for his grandchildren who live out of state to gather for a graveside service. That makes me sad. 

And each time I hear about plans for the coming school year, I feel tears just beneath the surface. I ache for the teachers and staff and for the children whose learning and growing is so seriously impaired. And I fear for everyone's safety. 

Alongside the implications of the pandemic and no less important is how can our country own up to the racism we have allowed to dominate. How can we become the people we were created to be? 

It's no wonder my normal sense of hope has been leaking around the edges. If it weren't so hot, I would curl up under an afghan with a Snickers in one hand and an English mystery in the other and pretend none of it exists. 

Actually, maybe that is exactly what I need to do--or some version of the Afghan-Candybar-Mystery prescription. Just for now.  

Since my Dad died, I have been reading a meditation every day in Healing After Loss, Daily Meditations for Working Through Grief by Martha Whitmore Hickman. Often the daily reading is just what I need and applies to the ambiguous loss many of us are feeling in our lives right now. This is from July 18
             No need to feel guilty about low moods.
             If we can do something to chase them off--fine.
             If not--wait, they will pass.

I continue to function, although sometimes I do sadly things I have normally done happily, but I listen to myself and acknowledge the dips before they turn into debilitating despair. I wonder how often in my work as a spiritual director I have encouraged a client or workshop participant or someone with whom I am having a casual conversation to "be gentle with yourself." I am trying to remember those words for myself, as well.

An Invitation
What have you noticed about your moods? Have you dipped? I would love to know. 

A Book Recommendation: The Hate U Give by Angie Thomas

                                                                    
I can hear your objections now.         

"My book list is too long as it is."
"The stack of books on my nightstand are about to fall over."
"Everyone seems to be recommending books I must read now. Please no more."

Well, too bad, because here is one more book, and before you order it from your local independent bookstore, you might ask your teenage grandchild or neighbor, if they have a copy. That might truly be the case.

The Hate U Give by Angie Thomas https://angiethomas.com/the-hate-u-give is a young adult (YA) title published in 2017, and it won all sorts of awards, including a Coretta Scott King Honor Award and the Honor Book designation from the American Library Association. It has also been made into a movie. 

I had heard about the book, seen it in stores and noticed it on many lists, but I don't read many YA books. When I do, however, I usually enjoy and appreciate them. I found a brand new copy of this book in a Little Free Library when I was on a morning walk and inside the cover the person who donated the book wrote "Black Lives Matter. Please read and pass on." 

I set aside all the other books waiting to be read, including a shelf full of nonfiction books about white privilege and the history of racial relations in this country and all the things we need to do and know now. I will return to that necessary and worthwhile task, as part of re-educating myself. But often a novel touches my heart and frees me to imagine myself into realities I have not experienced. When I read a piece of fiction that is so well-written, as this book is, I become part of the story. I no longer look from the outside in or from the present back to the past.

I am part of the setting and the time period. I am one of the characters--or maybe more than one. I experience the story as it unfolds, and that allows me to learn more on a heart level. 

The story in The Hate U Give is not unfamiliar, unfortunately.  A young black man confronted by police for no real reason and the tragic and far-reaching results of that. This was published in 2017, as I said, but it could have been published today, and you will feel that, too. 

I didn't always understand the language or the cultural references, being a white woman in her 70's, nor can I possibly feel the same anger or fear felt by the characters in the book, but the book illustrates what happens when humans do not treat other humans as human. It also illustrates when humans do treat other humans as humans, and that according to Austin Channing Brown, the author of I'm Still Here: Black Dignity in a World Made for Whiteness, another book on my long list, is the work of anti-racism. 

The main character in the book is the primary witness to the killing of her friend, and her dilemma is how to respond. I am quite sure Angie Thomas, the author of the book, was familiar with the words of Rep John Lewis, "Never ever be afraid to make some noise and get in good trouble, necessary trouble." 

Reading a book relevant to what is happening in our country now--or not happening-may not seem as if it can make a difference, but I think the reading I choose to do opens me to the ways I am racist. I may not do obvious racist things, like yelling "White Power," or beating someone up or tearing up a Black Lives Matter sign, but I have racist thoughts, and it is my job to become clear about what they are.

The theologian Walter Brueggeman asked "How can this time of unease be holy time?" This time becomes holy when we dare to listen to the pain and history and fears and hopes and dreams of others, but also when we dare to listen to the uncomfortable thoughts and beliefs and assumptions we hold within ourselves. 

So I repeat what Austin Channing Brown said in a recent conversation with Brene Brown, (podcast)  "The work of anti-racism is to become a better human in order to treat other humans better."

An Invitation

What inspires you to be a better human? What are you learning about yourself as a racist? 

A final note: What a privilege it was when I was on a civil rights tour in 2018 to walk across the Edmund Pettus Bridge in Selma where John Lewis and so many other brave souls walked, in order to make us all better humans. 

 

Movies to Restore the Soul

Like crows, we humans are attracted to the shiny, bright, and new. 

I eagerly open the email from Netflix, for example, to see what new series or movie is upcoming, hoping it will be something that can divert me, entertain me, keep me occupied after another day of distressing news. 

I am thrilled when I receive an email from the library telling me books I have placed on hold are ready for curbside pick-up, and I am even more delighted when I see that one of the books is not only new to me, but a newly published book by one of my favorite authors, Old Lovegood Girls by Gail Godwin. 

This desire for something new or different extends to my kitchen, as well. I tire of fixing the same old, same old, and browse through my recipe files and cookbooks and sometimes even online for a tempting dinner recipe. This past week, for example, I fixed a puff pastry vegetable tart, and it was delicious, and I was especially pleased the recipe called for basil, which grows abundantly in our garden. 

When I walk in the neighborhood, varying my path as much as possible, I look for something I've not noticed before--lately, I have noticed treehouses, for example, and am surprised by how many there are in our neighborhood. I've also acquired a taste for walking in the alleys, peeking at backyards. 

Sometimes, however, after listening to news or reading commentaries throughout the day, what I need to keep me balanced, grounded is the familiar. Sometimes I need what I know will enrich me and remind me not all is lost or hopeless. 

Lately, my husband and I have been watching movies from our DVD collection--movies we have seen before, often more than once, like Miss Potter, which is about Beatrix Potter who wrote and illustrated the children's books, Peter Rabbit and so many others. We've been watching movies that have lifted our spirits, like Chocolat in which a person from outside the community is seen as suspicious and even a danger to the community and instead brings the community together. I've needed to immerse myself in stories that highlight beauty, love, and human connection. 

These movies remind me that everything that matters will last. 

An Invitation

What restores your soul? I would love to know. 

Trying to Stay in the Present Moment

How often have I encouraged a directee or a friend OR myself, to be in the present moment? Many times. Many, many times. 

A routine of sitting in silence, praying and meditating helps me focus on the present moment. When I pause to breathe, deeply and intentionally I am able to return to the present moment and listen to what my heart's voice is whispering. That voice often says, "Live now. Be now."

Lately, however, thoughts about the future have invaded my present moments. When I say "the future," I don't mean thoughts or worries about what will happen in the years to come. When will I die? Will I die before my husband does? How will I die? What physical and mental infirmities will overtake me? 

No, I project only into the next few months. 

What if our family can't gather for Thanksgiving or Christmas?

What if this pandemic lasts for another year? 

When will our extended family be able to gather and bury our beloved father/grandfather/great-grandfather's ashes?

When will we be able to return to church?

Those are my top four questions. Questions of a personal focus, for sure, and questions that rip me right out of the present moment. That is a loss, for there is so much in the present moment that brings me joy:

*   The spacious time I have for writing, as I return to work on my memoir. In fact, time itself feels more spacious right now. 

*    The basil "hedge" in our garden and all the pesto I have been making to enjoy now and in future months. 

*    Good conversation on our patio with friends--one friend or a couple at a time.

*    Bruce's garden, lush and abundant.

*    Books, books, and more books. I just finished Virgil Wander by Leif Enger and loved it. 

*    Morning walks. Something always delights me, like a quirky sunflower sculpture. 

*    The day spent in northern Wisconsin with our daughter and granddaughter.

*     Our collection of DVDs--movies waiting to be watched again. This weekend we watched Julie and Julia with Meryl Streep playing to perfection Julia Child. 

*     The holy creativity, relevance, and inspiration of our Sunday morning online worship services.

In each of these joys, there is an element of surprise, a gift that would be missed, if I held my breath, worrying, wondering about and trying to control the future. 

Joyce Rupp says it well in her book Walk in a Relaxed Manner, Life Lessons from the Camino:

            I saw how living in the Now leads me into a

            stronger union with God because it is a way of

            constant openness to divine grace. When I am  

            attentive to the Now, I am able to be more open

            and receptive interiorly. God is with me in the

            present moment. It is here that this goodness

            reaches into my life and beckons to me. The 

            Now provides what I need to respond to God

            and to life wholeheartedly. p. 87

In each moment there is choice--to live and love in the present or not. 

An Invitation

What questions pull you out of the present and into the future. What reminds you that in the present moment are many joys? I would love to know.