Sheltering a great love within…
When I look at this blank page, I feel a surreal quality.
A headline contrasts “Dow Jones best week in over 80 years” and “more than 16 million Americans have lost jobs.”
30,000 new cases of coronavirus in the US today. Nearly 110,000 deceased globally.
The hillside out my window is bright green from all of our recent rain and glowing sweetly, golden grasses reflecting the evening sunlight under painted skies.
The wind chimes are singing loudly in the slightly stormy air. We have no rain today, but the air was crisp with chill.
Of course life in my body is close to my mind. Here in my home where I have not left for nearly 6 weeks, and will likely stay for six more, the world is small. Courtney arrives this afternoon and I meet her with a smile. Caitlin arrived this morning and I met her with a smile.
Last night I dreamt that Harvey Weinstein was taking one last trip to Epstein’s Island before going to prison. I was disgusted with him. Thinking about Epstein this morning I realize I felt like that was one of the greatest tragedies of last year. So multilayered…
This brokenhearted and disturbed man, so conflicted and confused in a neglectful world that he would operate such a terrible life and circumstance. World leaders and other powerful individuals, themselves so twisted and distorted by our human affairs would be his conspirators in enacting and consuming those operations. Some shred of justice dared approach the evil actions and deeds and then, before the process could be cleansed in the sunlight, shadows of power and corruption would erase the man and silence our cry.
Worst of all perhaps, we simply forget and move on…
I slept better last night, though again not quite as well as I might’ve liked.
Putting words to this page, in the context of this world so bizarre – such tremendous suffering, destruction, and disparity – feels surreal.
Courtney and I attended a meet up online today, this evening really, intended to explore how we as people can build a sense of connection to one another, to build more trust and safety and possibility together. The group is one I’ve been a part of for a decade now; even hosting weekly meetings in my home for somewhere between three and four years.
Our host, Tom, offered this poem from Rumi:
“Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing,
there is a field. I’ll meet you there.
When the soul lies down in that grass,
the world is too full to talk about.
Ideas, language, even the phrase ‘each other’
doesn’t make any sense.”
In our little breakout group, we sat mostly in silence contemplating these words.
The question of faith came up for me. It seems the very greatest sense of connection, the fullest feeling of integrity arises stillness and silence.
And yet there is something, much even, to be done.
I slept in today. I didn’t wake until 8 AM, and even then spent the first better part of an hour in meditation before stirring. It was 10:30 AM before I found my way into the wider world of the house to my desk.
Thanks to my exquisite care friends, my body is getting good movement morning and night. Due to our conditions of physical distancing, exercise and weight-bearing have been lacking. The world feels fragile right now. I feel fragile within it.
I was on a call the other day with a group of colleagues in spirit and spoke a few words from the heart. Later, a friend reached out and suggested that I clip those words from the recording and share them publicly. I’ve been exploring various media expressions lately already so it seemed like a good idea.
I reached out to the other friend who had the recording to ask for a copy for that purpose. A few days later, he wrote back both offering the recording, but also the hesitation he felt to break open the container of that otherwise private dialogue so that some fragment might be exposed to the world.
I realized that the words that had passed my lips in that context did not belong solely to me. The ideas and imagery expressed were the result of that unique configuration of collaborators and dialogue. What was heard from my mouth, was actually heard from the fountain of sharing that was our unique moment together.
I am grateful to have been a part of that dialogue, I have been enriched by it, and I have been enriched by those subsequent engagements on the matter.
I feel a part of this world, a part of this ecosphere. I often conceive myself separate from it and “others” within it and in that, wonder how I might gain enough favor to be sustained.
Thankfully to a community of donors, I am sustained now and for some moments to come. Beyond that, I hesitate to express myself as essential to any other, appreciating instead the fullness, integrity, and perfect beauty in the actual human being before me.
When I let go of condemnation and wishing and a sense of ignorance (3 Poisons) the world is too full to talk about.… Even the phrase “each other” doesn’t make any sense.
Given in this wider space of oneness, that “I” seems to arise, the sustenance and duration of that self seems most justly a matter of faith.
When I look at this whole body of us, neglecting in our ignorance and indifference, distancing from one another in our anger, and grasping greedily in our lust, it’s hard to write about this small sense of self and any sense of need or longing or difficulty or fear.
I do rise in the spirit of joy and love and gratitude for my good fortunes, those people around me, friendships, food, computers on which to write and communicate.
I have good work, I spent nearly 4 hours today laying the foundation to breathe greater life into our MettaCare initiative. A dear friend has agreed to add further counsel on top of an already enormous amount of nutrient he has provided to that effort.
There is beauty and friendship welling up within that space, nascent and in development.
I’ve spent an hour now this evening writing in this journal, while Courtney has made yet another delicious dinner and carefully tended the space.
It can feel abstract, trying to love the world, trying to give some solace and care by writing words to an uncertain audience. To be sure, Charles, you are certain, and I do hope these words offer some love and solace and care to you, and you are not alone, I know there are others who will read these as well.
I guess I’m just reflecting on those moments when the page is blank, and the world is thirsty for love, how to approach such a task without getting in the way…
“How can this great love be inside of me?”
“Look at your eyes, they are small, but they see enormous things…”
Thank you also, Tyler, for your encouragement for me to leave a link here to my crowdfunding initiative, all feel free to give generously 🙂
God gets to know things, we just get to ask questions…