Friday, April 10, 2020

Still Believing in the Possible

I have to still believe in the possible.

Even if I have been home for a month.

Even as the ravages of Covid-19 sweep through households like a death angel.

Even as high school rites-of-passage are cancelled.

Even as graduations are virtual.

Even as toilet paper has become the hotly traded commodity.

I still have to believe in the possible.

What if this season of sitting down - being at home, being among the things we've accumulated, eating the food we cooked, seeing the people we love, and enjoying the spaces we curated - was the thing? What if it was the intention, after all the running Ragged for the purpose of chasing some arbitrary thing  measured in dollars, was to remind us of what life was truly about?

The possibilities.

Absent the constant running to reach some unreachable goal called success, what if the real meaning of being was in how we related to each other and loved each other and considered what was best for each other?

This is Holy Month for three monotheistic faiths.

Passover began at sundown this week, this is Good Friday, and next week, Ramadan begins.

It is a time when we pause. All three literally have it in their theology to stop and consider the deepest tenants of their faith and the purposes for which they exist. It is a time of remembering that no one is here by accident and no one is here just for themselves.


We don't often have opportunities to imagine again how we can live together new, apart from the "isms" designed to separate humankind and to make humankind think that there is never enough for everyone. There is enough, including toilet paper, if we stop and consider the needs of the other greater than the wants of the self.

I am still believing in it.

Imagining what it will look like in June, July, or August when Covid-19 Stay-at-Home begins to lift and people open their doors again. It will one day be safe to go back out and gather together with people we love.

Perhaps that is what this period of resting in is meant to be. I know I have certainly been thinking about what can be new again. This spring, becoming new, inside, what if the period of rest was to give back what many of us lost by working endless hours? Spring always invite me to smile and be light in the blissful wonder of life as I emerge from the heavy cloak of winter. What if in this spring, still in the cocoon, that we become the best of ourselves and bring all of that together for the world we collectively inhabit?

The earth is restoring herself. We can do the same.


I still believe in them.  In the gift of taking a walk along the waterfront. Of the way the barista prepares my favorite latte, of the glint of the sun on a book as I read together at the park.

Let's live there for a minute and ponder together what we can be in a new possible.

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