Spacious Solidarity Blog: Day 2
I went to Catholic school in a suburb outside Boston in the 80’s. Every year we would get St. Patrick’s Day off school. It also happened to be the Reverend’s birthday. We still had to go to church and there would always be a big procession at the beginning of mass with bagpipes and all.
I remember the intense feeling of freedom afterwards. Finally free to make use of my holiday, I'd spend hours on my own in the woods behind our house.
I remember the distinct smell of the wet earth, fully saturated from the melting snow, the bright colors of the daffodils and crocuses, the tender new buds on the tips of tree branches, just about to blossom against a deep blue sky. I climbed trees, puddle hopped, sky gazed, and made mud pies that I later brought home and convinced my younger brothers to eat. It was bliss.
Today I woke to the sound of birdsong ringing through an eerily silent sky. The familiar roar of airplane engines cutting through space was missing. It was both deeply disturbing and a relief.
All day I thought about going out, but my computer was too alluring. Right now I’m addicted to the news and Facebook.
Today I felt something hollow inside, strange and familiar. It took me ages to work out what it was. Then I remembered the day my mother died. A cold day in 1992. The 17th of November. I remember the shock of it and not being able to do anything but watch movies on a friend’s new VCR. I kept thinking I should be getting on with life, but I’d gone totally inert.
Today was like that day.
Grief is a funny thing. It’s got a mind of its own and seems to move outside of time and space. Today was a day of grief, and also a day of love and connection.
In meditation I grew angry at the people I know who are still not taking this seriously. Afterwards I wrote an email pleading folks to STAY HOME.
I spent the rest of the day on the phone with one friend and in written communication with many others. In the evening I meditated with a group online, ate a gorgeous meal with my partner, and watched Zoom tutorials until it was time for bed.
Right before bed I Facetimed my sister-in-law, brother and their kids who live in Boston. My 4 year old niece is old enough now to take an interest in other people’s worlds and tonight she requested to get a tour of our flat.
As I carried my laptop around our small, one bedroom Victorian conversion a deep sense of gratitude welled up In me. I have a home and I am safe.
I didn’t go out, although the calling was there. Maybe I’ll go out tomorrow.