This 2020, this bathroom break in history, this time of Nothing, is not just a pause between chapters. It is a reckoning. And a time to get real with ourselves. How will you do it?
Some of us are running from the Nothing that presses in and in and in. Some of us run toward it, dance in it, bathe in it. Some of us are writing letters, pressing into our history to feel words in our bodies again. And even the souls who usually want to wander the vast, empty landscapes of possibility are tired now.
We are finding our feet again on a new earth, our shoes worn out or thrown out in favor of bare feet. We are relearning kindness inside this dystopian nightmare because what else can we do? Even the fighting; the violence; the bodies dropping from the virus, the police, fires and explosions invite us to learn active kindness.
And yet, the old-fashioned grief still exists. Daughters are losing their mothers. People are misbehaving. Parents don’t sleep at night because, despite everything else, they are haunted by the mundane idea that they are ruining their children.
Even as we sit inside our own pain, even as we walk more miles than we have in years, our cells are reorganizing, settling into this forced meditation.
Those who say they want life to go back to normal know that they are lying. They, too, have felt the fingers of the Pause brush against their skin. They have heard the new song humming like a hymn in their ears.
The silence isn’t silent anymore, and we can run from it no longer.
Thanks for taking the time to listen,