ANOTHER NEW YEAR -- MAY IT BE KIND

It has been another exhausting year.  Covid has continued to circulate, even as climate change has become ever more difficult to ignore, bringing terrible heat here to the Pacific Northwest and fires, tornados, floods, and drought elsewhere.  

There have been blessings, of course.  A new baby born to one of my two daughters, and the other daughter looking forward to the birth of twins next spring.  There have been days spent with friends and family and hours spent in my garden.  There have been walks and writing projects and books to read.  

 

There has been love and there has been sorrow.

 

It is difficult to know how to approach this next year, which will bring the start of year three of our living with the virus, along with everyday blessings in each of our lives.  So, because I haven’t the words for my wish that the new year will be kind to us all, and because the Irish mystic John O’Donohue left us so many beautiful words, I give you his Blessing For The New Year from his book, To Bless the Space Between Us:

 

BEANACHT (A Blessing For the New Year)

 

On the day when

The weight deadens

On your shoulders

And you stumble, 

May the clay dance

To balance you.

 

And when your eyes

Freeze behind

The gray window 

And the ghost of loss

Gets into you,

May a flock of colors, 

Indigo, red, green

And azure blue,

Come to awaken in you

A meadow of delight.

 

When the canvas frays

In the curraagh of thought

And a stain of ocean

Blackens beneath you,

May there come across the waters

A path of yellow moonlight

To bring you safely home.

 

May the nourishment of the earth be yours,

May the clarity of light be yours,

May the fluency of the ocean be yours,

May the protection of the ancestors be yours.

 

And so may a slow

Wind work these words

Or love around you,

An invisible cloak 

To mind your life.

 

                                

As we enter this new year, may your joys outweigh your sorrows and may you have an invisible cloak to mind your life. 

I DIDN'T THINK IT WOULD BE SO HARD: Reflections on a Covid Thanksgiving

I didn't think it would be so hard.  I thought I could do a quiet Thanksgiving. I did all right for a while. And, then, without warning, the melancholy set in. All it took was the placing of two (and only two) plates on the table for me to become sad.  Very sad.  

I think I have tolerated the pandemic pretty well.  I am good at entertaining myself.  I like to spend time alone.  Sure, there have been bad days, but it wasn't until Thursday that the loss of human connection due to the pandemic really hit home. 

I don't usually like big gatherings - I prefer to take people one-by-one or, at most, a handful at a time.  But Thanksgiving - Thanksgiving is different.  It is my favorite holiday.  No presents - just lots of food and a jigsaw puzzle and beloved people.

This year we had the food and the puzzle, but there was no need to set up a card table for the puzzle--it fit just fine on the dining room table.

Sitting there, just the two of, it felt like my husband and I were surrounded by ghosts.  Yes, we said our gratitudes, and there was and is plenty to be thankful for.  But, then we found ourselves naming those who have sat around the dining room table over the years - always some combination of our kids and their families, extended family, friends, even ex-spouses.  (They are always family when you have kids together.)

And then there was the fact that we had to do all of the cooking.  In recent years, Mara, my youngest, has taken over the kitchen while I have followed her around doing dishes.  And those who have joined us have always made contributions to the groaning table.  

Even in years when we have not hosted at Thanksgiving, we have always spent it with others.  Never alone. 

And, yes, I know, that many have suffered much greater losses. There are those who have lost loved ones or jobs or homes to the pandemic.  There are those who live alone and are unable for a variety of reasons to get together outside with others for a walk or a visit.  There are those who can't visit loved ones in hospitals or nursing homes.  There are also exhausted health care workers who are putting their lives on the line for us every day, even as people refuse to wear masks and insist on gathering. 

So, on this day, two days after Thanksgiving, with Christmas just a few weeks away, I offer thanks for health and friends and family and a warm and comfortable home.  And I pray that we will find a way to come together as a nation to take care of those who are suffering the most during this challenging time. 

THE ONE, TWO.THREE, FOUR, ISOLATION COVID BLUES

As I ponder the Covid lockdown, an Elvis song that was popular when I was a kid has been running through my mind.  With apologies to The King, here is my updated rendition. (Now, I just need someone with a guitar and a voice to sing it for me.)

The One, Two, Three, Four Isolation Covid Blues

(sung to the tune of Elvis Presley’s Occupation G.I. Blues - If you don't know the song, do click on the link before reading  my lyrics.)

I live in a house 

with a beautiful garden out back

I live in a house 

with a beautiful garden out back

Gimme a day with friends

To cheer up this sad sack.

I’ve got those one, two, three, four

isolation covid blues

From my uncut hair to the toes of my unworn shoes

And if I don’t see a new face soon

I’m gonna blow my fuse.

We eat healthy meals

at the kitchen table each day

We eat healthy meals 

at the kitchen table each day

I’d blow my whole IRA

For a meal in a restaurant, say.

We’d sure like to help

but all we do here is wait

We’d sure like to help 

but all we do here is wait

And they can’t say how long

We’re gonna be stuck in this state.

I’ve got those one, two, three, four

isolation covid blues

From my uncut hair to the toes of my unworn shoes

And if I don’t see a new face soon

I’m gonna blow my fuse.

I’d meet you today at the beach

but folks won’t wear masks

I’d meet you today at the beach

but folks won’t wear masks

So we’re stuck in the back yard

‘til there’s a vaccine at last.

I’ve got those one, two, three, four

isolation covid blues

From my uncut hair to the toes of my unworn shoes

And if I don’t see a new face soon

I’m gonna blow my fuse.