Spacious Solidarity Blog: Day 39

The first thing I remember upon waking is the last thing we talked about before going to sleep.

As we got into bed my partner turned to me and told me how much they can’t wait to take me out to dinner and a movie again. They are missing these things.

I asked them what else they missed and before we knew it we were going back and forth, making a list.

Walking to the high street on a busy, sunny Saturday afternoon and popping into some of our favourite local shops. Saying hello to the shop keepers and having a little chat.

Going to a café for cake and coffee.

Having a picnic in the park (free from the fear of reprimand).

A day out at the Tate modern, including walking along the riverbank, listening to the buskers singing their hearts out, enjoying the street performers, people watching. Eating at Wahaca if the line’s not too long.

Going to a gallery and standing close to one another as we whisper running commentaries on the art into each other’s ears.

Concerts, sporting events, the theater.

Camping, the beach.

PRIDE.

I spend the morning on the phone with meditation students, supporting their practice, hearing about there lives. There’s a lot of tender, heart-felt sharing and I feel privileged to have their trust. I try and listen, be empathic, get curious alongside them, not fall into the trap of giving advice.

This way of listening has not always come easy to me. I’ve had to work hard at it, starting with myself, finding the will to listen deeply to my own inner voices, all the different parts of me showing up in the space of practice.

Learning to meet all these parts from a place of grace, a gentle, non-violent place, continues to be a rich working ground. And I’ve learned that the better I get at doing that for myself, the more I’m able to do it with others. What a gift.

I spend the rest of the day writing until it’s time for lunch and our daily walk. We have less than an hour so head back to Hackney Downs. We go there so often now that we’ve gotten into a routine of walking around the park in the opposite direction to the day before.

Today its heading south along the row of tall London Plane trees. We stick to the grass to avoid the joggers on the paved path. As we approach our favourite sun-bathing spot we notice someone else there.

Someone is in our spot.

Upon closer inspection we see it’s an elderly woman with a pram. We guess it’s grandma taking care of baby.

I have to remind myself that the spot is not ours. Even though I like it and have become attached to it. And even though I’m pretty sure the pine trees, hedge rows and primrose bushes also like me back, it is not our spot.

We plop down on an approximate spot not too far from the pines.

My partners back’s been bothering them so they ask if I’ll give them a short massage. I start digging in immediately. I really enjoy this kind of bodywork. Many times I’ve considered training as a massage therapists but at the end of the day I think I’d get bored. There’s not a lot of talking involved in massage therapy.

I’ve always chosen work that requires me to talk a lot. I like talking. I’m an extroverted thinker after all.

We only have a few minutes on the grass before we have to head back home. We make our way around the park, commenting on the high number of sun-bathers. Mostly men on their own.

After considering envy, I decide I’m happy for them. 

I enjoy seeing people relaxing. If it weren’t for coronavirus, they’d most likely be in an office stuck behind a desk right now but instead they ‘re here, worshiping the sun.

Let’s also hope they’re practicing social distancing.

In the afternoon I speak with a couple of friends on Zoom. We were meant to be leading an introduction to meditation retreat together in Scotland next week and now we’re cooking up a last minute at-home retreat offer. I’m an even mix of excited and worried that we’ll do all this planning and then no one will come. It’s a wait and see kinda project.

I have leftovers for dinner and then it’s straight into week 5 of my meditation course on Zoom. We’re exploring spiritual rebirth. What else is possible when clinging ceases, when we aren’t as bound up in habitual cycles of suffering?

We’re going deeper and deeper together as a group and I love what I’m hearing from them. They are slowly trusting that awareness is enough, seeing more clearly habits of attachment, noticing subtle ways in which we create a sense of self out of almost anything.

Before bed I do a bit of scrolling through Facebook. Someone named Christian has posted in my local mutual aid group about a project he’s working on. He’s been taking photos of people on his road in Hackney with little stories. It’s like our own little version of Humans of New York.

Turns out he his road is my road, Evering Road. I immediately comment that I’m his neighbor and would love to meet him one day. The next thing I know we’re private messaging, arranging a photo shoot for tomorrow.

I marvel at how much easier it’s been for me to trust emergence during lockdown. With everything I use to rely on for normalcy stripped away there is now room for new, exciting things to happen.

It’s also been easier to make new friends. Somehow the lockdown has put me in touch with a younger, less inhibited version of myself not afraid to put herself out there, share her vulnerability, dream together with someone else about the beautiful things we may create together.

I look forward to meeting Christian. Who knows what might come of it?