To Care and Not to Care

 It comes in waves doesn't it? There's a loneliness that's risen to the surface in our lives, exacerbated by a cold, wet blanket of a Pandemic that surges on. The tide has gone out. We have no more breathe.  Figuratively and literally, sadly. There's loneliness in Covid. There's loneliness in our small celebrations of life and holidays. There's loneliness in our friendships, as a lot of them drift apart like continents in a vast oceans. We can only maintain so many. There's loneliness in the guilt and shame that whispers in our ear, "You haven't been a very good friend." There's loneliness in the hurt. The parenting, the teaching, the relationships and marriages, the sons and daughters, the childless, the houseless, the sick and dying.  There's loneliness in not knowing how to respond to yet another death. There's loneliness in the grief.  There's loneliness in the accused and the accuser, the oppressed and the oppressor.  This

A fifth of November lament The United States stands once again a 'house divided'. Waiting in the balance A high wire  1, 2, 3, 4... Upon arrival to the other side, what will this election have left behind in it's wake? Underneath it's rubble, will we hear the muffled voices? Will arms reach down to lift up? Will arms reach up to receive? Make no mistake, We deserve no parade. The hurt is immense. Our own words have wounded us. Our burdens of the past haunt us, Our anxieties for the future halt us. Our fear of each other will bury us. Is now the time we turn and look each other in the eye? Who will save us from ourselves?  Christ have mercy. *illustration by  Scott Erickson

 Hi! We've made it to November. And for most of us that feels like a feat. For most of us too, it also feels like we're *still* in the middle of whatever this is.  This, 2020... But here we are, at a different place than we were one month ago, one day away from a national election. Deep breaths everyone. I've been inspired by author and podcaster Emily P. Freeman to engage in a little reflection practice before we timidly set foot in yet another month. She says, " Intentional reflection is a way to bare witness to your own life. " And, " One common mistake we make when we have the desire to make good decisions is that we try to peer into the future to discover what it might hold, what the outcomes we want to achieve are, and what roadblocks we wish to avoid. The only problem is that the future hasn't happened yet, so how can it possibly teach us? Instead of looking ahead and guessing about outcomes, there's something to be said for looking back and ga