A little run over and drug…
It’s the middle of the day and I’m about to start again on an important task – capturing the MettaCare story in a context that will allow it to be accessible to potential funding and other collaborative partners. I have great partners on this, Dave with tremendous industry experience on both sides of project funding, Eric, also with not insubstantial industry exposure and substantial grant experience, and Tyler, kind of a jack of all trades in this territory, but not without mastery.
So tremendous support in terms of a foundation of preparation, but the raw materials and initial draft of the effort will be happening right here at this desk. As I begin organizing the project for today’s efforts, I realized I needed to clear my psyche in order to really drop in. Hopefully this exercise will be of value to you the reader as well.
Concurrently on for the last month I’ve been developing intelligence, research, questions, action, and creativity across a variety of fronts ranging from future housing options, current and prospective financial managements, care concerns (both for myself, and those whose lives are immediately impacted by these dynamics), asset management, and where appropriate disposition, insurance and matters of social services, ongoing creative work and future looking project developments. This not to mention the various intricacies of daily life, shopping, appointments, meditation practice, and various exhale. Also of course the critical informal conversations with friends and loved ones. Even making this list feels exhausting right now.
All of these elements have moving parts, often changing parts. For instance things I learned with confidence on Monday of this week have in some cases been entirely controverted or inverted by Thursday. Seemingly simple matters like whether and how income is going to affect various government benefits, or which housing scenarios may be appropriate, accessible, and available to me, give me the sense that they will be moving targets until they are nailed down or off the table completely.
All of this tidal wave of energy continues to gain mass and momentum as it rolls across the time scape of my life. Any of those dearly beloved who come close to it at all must necessarily commit to the sensation of tumbling uncertainty, or retreat to the viewing bleachers on the shore. Retreat is easier for some than others, and still others find uneasy footing as they attempt to step forward and get their hands wet.
Yesterday was a day of intensity. All of the members of my immediate care team are affected directly by these unfolding events. The source of their livelihood stands in stark question, and each of them have been necessarily plumbing the various options available to them, yet without certainty on where this path stone will be in six months time, underfoot or long gone. In the midst of this, one of these partners stepped away for vacation, leaving ripples in the wave face and requiring additional dance steps of those remaining.
Like the flap of the butterflies wing, those little ripples boiled and churned, breaking surface tension and allowing deeper turbulence to rise to the surface. Yesterday was a day of intensity.
Dentists and lawyers and driving loops around the county… Staying the night in the guestroom in hopes of easing some burden of travel, Eleña instead found herself tossing and turning, finding little rest by morning when she was to rise and help me into the day. She is the youngest of our team, recently married, recently a homeowner, recently graduated with her Masters degree, recently discovering the possibility of really creating a life that is natural and exciting to her. In the midst of all that progressive novelty, the employment uncertainty here, compounded by deep undercurrents of interpersonal care, lands with her uniquely.
I can’t imagine that attempting to rest here in the epicenter of this energy had something to do with sleep escaping.
Nonetheless, morning came, and she was doing her best. Meanwhile, I am nearing the end of an “exhale phase” in this process, where everything has been extended forward in a developmental reach; the need to inhale and reintegrate all of the various streams is imminent. Given that metaphor, yesterday was probably the height of the exhale. In that space, one overlooked nuance, one misplaced comment, and our shared harmony was broken.
We each tumbled through the remaining portion of our day together in relative stillness. Work in progress paused like the tip of the breath. By the end of the evening, we had each progressed into separate spaces, distant and out of touch. With a little help in conversation with Cassandra, I was able to begin making my way back by the end of the evening. Rest was disturbed and unsettled nonetheless.
Eleña was to be the first contact I would have today and when she arrived at 8 AM, I was still preparing my flesh, mind, and spirit for the work of reintegration. It wasn’t until about 35 minutes later that I was ready to reach out.
One thing I am constantly in awe of here in the process of our little care community, is that when people commit, and they most often do, seemingly impossible reconciliations bring with them the absolute nectar of the human spirit, humility, grace, and capacity.
8:35 AM, I sent my customary morning emoji greeting, “?” and a few minutes later Eleña came through the door with water in hand. We began to dance. Circumspect at first, but quickly realizing this day was not going anywhere if not through this tension. I won’t speak for my friend, but for me at times the engagement was hard, but far more in the balance, it was beautiful and committed and caring. We smashed quickly through layers of superficial “he said she said” to the meaning and experience behind them. Refreshed in those waters of clarity, we dove deeper still to the aspects of our felt sense of culture, conversations and confusions, interconnection and care woven throughout.
It was good work and took us probably only 45 minutes before we were ready to rise and get me out to the day. I arrived at my desk at 10:30 AM, grateful to see that the work I had scheduled for the earliest part of the day could easily be set aside, replaced for the overall health of the system with the work that had been done.
To tease the tension, my computer was in the middle of an automatic update and decided to take the next hour for itself, leaving me to get done what little bits I could through the screen of my phone (I am very much not that adept in that arena). Clock time ticking by and the answers from Monday melting away, returning to the primordial ambiguities of the moment.
I can feel the breath of the uncertain future on my face. Whether it arrives on March 1, or April 1, or anytime between now and then I do not know. I dreamt last night of traveling on dark streets in deserted neighborhoods with dead trees, looming terror, just out of sight but certainly coming. I am filled with gratitude and can easily find that moment to moment, but the invitation to lose hope, to surrender to the confusion is never far.
Again, I wonder if this sentiment is not far from any wakeful human in the macrocosm of our incredible circumstance.
The sense of being tossed, as if by a truck, tangled in the netting and then dragging behind, has been familiar to me in this window of journey. I generally don’t feel disempowered, but often a bit ragged. I’m quite confident in my capacity to keep up my spirits whatever may come. I feel certain in my commitment to those closest to me to ensure no unnecessary impact comes to them through my choices. I am hopeful that my care in this process can hold value for others, perhaps you dear reader. And I am working to see if I might just find the grace to translate all of this madness into something meaningful and good for the world.
Feeling a little run over and drug, maybe, but there is life left in me yet.
God gets to know things, we just get to ask questions…