Spacious Solidarity Blog: Day 48

I wake up and immediately feel into how my body is doing today. Am I still fatigued? How’s my head? What about the tummy?

I sense that there’s something still a bit dodgy going on, but that things are definitely moving in the right direction. Today I’m going to take it easy. No group Zoom mtgs, just a couple of one-to-ones with old friends.

The first is with Lily. We met in college almost 25 years ago. She moved to London last year and we were both really looking forward to spending time together while she’s here, but that hasn’t been possible because of coronavirus.

I’m relieved to see her and hear that she’s doing well. We tell each other what we’ve been up to. She’s been busy applying for a spousal visa (her wife is from the UK), finding a new flat, and applying for jobs. She also tells me she’s been thinking about starting a blog.

Lily has an auto-immune disease called linear IgA bullous dermatosis (LABD). It’s so rare that she can’t find any groups online for people who have it. She wants to write about her experience in the hope of helping other people out there who may also have it.

She’s been dealing with it for years and it took her ages to get diagnosed. She's one of the most tenacious people I know and it’s so inspiring to hear her talk about all the things she’s gone through to finally get the help she needs. I’m so proud of her and also sad she’s suffered so much over the years.

She tells me that she and her wife have been walking to Kensington Gardens every day to look at the baby ducks. She’s so excited to tell me how fluffy they are.

We talk about New York City. She was living there and working in the public school system before coming to London. She says people back home are finding it hard to talk about how things are going.

A quick Google search about NYC and coronavirus brings up a Guardian article with the latest.

In the city that never sleeps the subway system is being shut down from 1-5am so they can clean. I wonder when they used to clean? It’s not just about cleaning, though. It’s also about the homeless, who sleep on near-empty subway cars through the night.

Apparently, because they can’t shower or access medical care, they are a health hazard. We live in a world where people who have nowhere to sleep but subway cars are considered a health hazard. Where will they sleep now?

They’ve also been conducting antibody tests. In New York City 20% of the population has tested positive. The highest ethnic group is Hispanics at 25.4%, closely followed by African-Americans at 17.4%. White folks come in last at 7%.

That tells you everything you need to know about racial disparities in America. The irony is that ethnic minorities may end up coming out of this thing stronger that white folks. Having the antibodies doesn’t just mean you’ve had the virus, it also means you could be immune.

After talking with Lily we go for our daily walk. I want to lay in the grass in our favourite spot. It’s a sun trap on the southeast corner of the park between some hedgerows and a primrose bush and under a handful of pine trees and a red maple.

I’m worried there may already be people there, but to my delight it’s empty. We grab the spot and I tuck into my packed lunch which my partner has made for me.

After eating I lay back in the grass and put my straw hat over my eyes, hoping to have a little snooze. Right before nodding off my partner tells me there is a cop on a bicycle riding through the park, asking people who are sitting in the grass to move on.

We see him ride right past a couple doing yoga without stopping.

Quick, look like you’re doing yoga!

I get into my best downward dog and the cop rolls on by. Phew!

Next problem is the clouds. They are the big, puffy kind that don’t seem to be moving, but they must be because the sun keeps going in and out. They seem to move a lot faster when the sun is out.

Now is a chance to practice patience. The sun has gone behind biggest cloud in the sky. Bright blue in all directions, except where the sun is. I wait and wait until finally the edge of the cloud’s getting brighter and brighter until yes, finally, sun again.

Almost as soon as the sun’s back out a dog with a particularly high-pitched bark and an owner who doesn’t give a shit come by. The owner is chatting away to another dog owner, and paying no attention to her dog. As she chats, the dog yaps, on and on and on.

They decide to stop and stand unnervingly close to us. This goes on for longer than it should.

Another chance to practice patience. I take a few deep breaths, throw my awareness wide open, and allow the dog barking to fall into the background. There is also a gentle breeze in the trees and birdsong. I focus on these.

Eventually, and without me noticing, the couple with their dogs move on. The sun goes back behind a cloud and my partner convinces me that it’s time to head home. They say that if we take the path around the park, we’ll be walking directly into the sun by the time it comes back out again.

Which is exactly what happens. We walk home kissed by the sun.

When we get back it’s time for my second Zoom of the day. This time with an even older friend, Andrea. We’ve known each other so long I can’t remember a time when we didn’t.

Andrea and I grew up together in the suburbs of Boston. We’re both children of Chilean immigrants and our fathers are both doctors. In early childhood we spent endless weekends together at “family” BBQs which included half a dozen other South American families with doctors for fathers.

When we were teenagers her family moved back to Santiago. The last time we saw each other was 20-odd years ago when I was in Chile visiting family.

We reconnected via Facebook. She’s just finished a coaching course and is discovering spirituality for the first time in her life. We talk about how we’ve both needed to find our feminine sides and how that’s what the world also needs to do.

That the pandemic is an opportunity to re-dress the balance.

She’s got three sons. They’ve also just got a dog. A rescue named Freya. Andrea says she insisted on getting a female.

We talk about how now is the time to re-connect with the ancestors and heal old wounds.

It’s cathartic talking to another child of Chilean immigrants. In a way I think Andrea probably understands me better than anyone else in the world. She’s my age, not a sibling, with similar life experience.

I spend the rest of the evening writing until I get an unexpected call from a good friend who is struggling. I do the best I can to be supportive and empathic, while also needing to give some strong advice. I hope it’s helpful.

It’s Mexican leftovers for dinner and then my partner wants to watch The Assistant. About half-way through we have to stop the movie to talk about our own past work experiences.

I spend the rest of the film waiting for something dramatic to happen, which never does. That’s the thing about toxic work environments, it’s a slow drip-drip until one day you can’t take it anymore, but you also can’t point to any one thing that happened that pushed you over the edge.

You want to complain but there’s nothing big enough to complain about. You know you won’t be taken seriously.

My partner says they liked its subtle and underlying tension. That’s the problem with me, I don’t do very well with subtle. I’m all sunshine and direct communication and saying it like it is.

That’s why I’m always getting in trouble with the Brits. And also why they often refer to me as a “breath of fresh air”. Although I don’t get that as much these days.

I must be doing a better job at assimilating.