I do hope this message finds you healthy, safe and well, tucked inside your home. I have been wanting to reach out for a while, but our world was rapidly changing around us, and each time I sat down to write, something new would pop up. First it was new shows to tell you about, and then the cancellation of all those shows. Then I got busy with the packing of my in-laws who are now awaiting their move into a retirement community. Yesterday, when I sat down to write, I felt overwhelmed with emotion, with the need to do something, and yet, not knowing what. So instead of working, I relied on my comfort skill of baking to bring me back home to myself. It wasn’t until a friend texted me and told me she was sad that I finally put a name to the emotion of the day.
While it would seem that fear is prevailing in our country right now, one only has to look on Facebook, Next Door, your own email to see people reaching out in kindness, offering to help those who cannot run errands because of age or health reasons. Even walking at the park yesterday, there were messages of kindness written in sidewalk chalk spread out across the path, reminding people they are not alone.
But underneath the kindness which warms my heart, lay another mysterious emotion, unrecognized until my friend named it for me. My empathic self is feeling a collective sadness.
There is sadness from being alone, isolated from loved ones, sadness about the reality of our pandemic, that this will not be over in two weeks with everyone returning to normal, recognition that things will get more challenging before they get better. There is concern for those who are on the front lines- medical and emergency personnel who work tirelessly to the point of exhaustion. There is sadness because we want to do more than we can to help. There is sadness that we cannot hug and comfort each other over Facetime, or even in person. We are sad because we physically cannot touch one another!
When I finally recognized the emotion, I was able to name the ways of sadness and it began to dissipate. Now, when I feel it, I know what it is, and I can wrap the sadness in as much light as I have and trust that kindness will prevail, love will shine through the darkness and a new day will dawn. Maybe our hearts will sing like they do in Italy, reminding people they are not alone. Maybe our hands will clap like they do each night in Spain, thanking the medical community for their efforts.
Perhaps in our country, this is a final push before the seed of change which we have been germinating will push past the earth and sprout into a beautiful new way of recognizing that we really do belong to each other.
So today, with a mug of tea in my hands, I will sit with my sadness, and then wrap it in love. I will release it just as the steam rises from my cup.
I am grateful to those of you who choose to receive my little notes, and I wish all of you safety, health, and abundant kindness to share. I hope my little scribblings are a reminder that you are not alone- we really are connected, and it only takes a little imagination to put yourself at my table sharing stories. So breathe in, wrap your hands around a mug of tea or coffee, and share a little of yourself. Know I am sending you love and light, and little of my presence, looking forward to when I will see you again.