The afternoon air, make that the early evening, is cool for the first time in recent memory. August is coming to a close and fall may seem to be nipping at its heels.
It’s been a crisp clear day here in San Diego. A quiet and tender pace here at the house, both Patience and I stepping easy after our respective “wipeout’s” yesterday. The discomfort I felt yesterday was of the disorienting kind – just so persistent and intense.
At first I just thought it was me until Patience in the afternoon, and later another friend by email both reported having a day of their own version of this disorienting condition. This led me to think back… Thursday morning with the first sign, Cassandra calling in needing to take a day for self recovery. The following morning it was Stephanie limping along. Five in rapid succession to say nothing of the wider world echoing in around us.
There is a prayer, “May the suffering of the numberless others come instead to me.” These are bold words, brave words. There is something in this looking that deeply into our condition, and offering prayer that gentleness may prevail. Not bad prayers I think for these times.
My brother David called this morning, late morning here. I was grateful to hear his voice. There is no one with whom I enjoy so consistently so much silence on the phone. We are close, and certainly have enjoyed our share of scratchy dialogue. More often these days, as this morning, the conversation is an easy stream flowing down through mountain meadow. Gurgling over rocks, drifting silently past the grasses, then bubbling again the sounds of more ideas.
Yesterday’s podcast spoke of systems collapse. A valid and well reasoned perspective for any thoughtful reflection, yet…
What if this wide stream of this little globe’s unfolding might find a path that circumvents so much of the terror one could be easily forgiven for imagining lay inevitably ahead? What if one person with clarity of intent, and discipline of mind, with an open heart sincerely prays?
Better still what if many of us bring this prayer through our hands and feet, our lips and ears, our care for those around us and the close, close world?
It was just noon when I made my way from the bed. A slow start, honoring the tenderness of yesterday, Patience rallying herself this morning in the daze of moving to be my aid. We took our time with the morning greeting, the body care, and pressure release and wound care.
The news of the world reporting the murder in the midst of clashing ideologies, political tensions bridging local divisions and larger global dynamics echo through, a new American norm. A woman’s voice from the protests in the Belarus capital square, “change will take many years, but we must start.”
My body never did quite reset this morning. Uneasy low-level discomfort increased through breakfast. Oatmeal at noon under the umbrella in the garden, San Diego 81°, perfect. The discomfort grew worse into the day.
A phone call to technical support, first world problem – my phone not properly providing my playlists. I wove that with the weekly review, resolving both, both will be revisited. LB finished his school registrations today. I guided him through some outdoor watering tasks and cleaning some gutter. Tasks some may consider rote or mundane still hold a sense of novelty and adventure for him. It’s a beautiful marvel to support.
The discomfort grew throughout the day, but somewhere in the late afternoon or early evening, now that I think about it, perhaps just as the heat was leaving the air, it began to subside.
The day felt productive, connected to others, and generous with ease. I hope that this reflected throughout our little world today.
Evening now, quiet music, Patience and Mike still tackling little tasks of house care and moving. LB and I will put up a few groceries.
God gets to know things, we just get to ask questions…