By Lisa Steele-Maley
Last week, I hit the proverbial wall. When an event that I had been planning to attend Saturday was cancelled, I had an opportunity to recalibrate. For 72 hours, I did not set my morning alarm, follow routines, or engage expectations or needs from the outside world. I didn’t insist on anything, except for being non-productive. As I observed my impatience and then eventually relaxed and found stillness, I regained some balance. I emerged rested.
Over the same 72 hours that I was in retreat, our community began rising in response to the coronavirus in amazing and beautiful ways. Individuals, organizations, and schools prioritized community health and safety over any other agenda. I have never seen this kind of compassionate, selflessness on this scale in my lifetime. I am falling in love with humanity anew. Business as usual has been interrupted in a most extraordinary way.
There are disappointments, inconveniences, and real hardships involved in this interruption and the impact will not be evenly distributed amongst our population. Those who are most vulnerable, due to age, illness, or access to resources will be hit the hardest by the virus and the response to it. There is injustice. There is fear. There is even death. We will all be touched by deep, heart-opening loss. But there is also great love in our collective response. I am encouraged by that. I am praying that we may use this time to recalibrate and begin to move towards a world that is more just, more sustainable, more aligned with our true nature.
I do not have any answers, but I am sitting with questions, openness, curiosity and a strong belief in our capacity for change. Hope lives here. I offer it to you:
As we slow down and encounter our fears, worries, and regrets:What possibilities will we find in the spaciousness of our newly collapsed schedules?What love and peace will hold us aloft?What belonging will soothe our isolation?
As we spend more time in our homes and local communities:What bridges will we build?What support will we offer to others?What support will we need from others?
As we notice the impacts of our lives on the lives of others:Will we claim our participation in the web of life?Will we remember the legacy of survival that ensured our own lives?Will we remember that we will one day be the ancestors in someone else’s story?
As we recognize our depth of responsibility to the interconnected human family,Will we also notice our interconnection with all living beings?Will we notice our interconnection with the living, pulsing earth?Will we notice that we are, in fact, one?
The lily and tulip spears nudging through the barely thawed soil in my yard are a prelude to the emerging season. May we also enter this new season as neophytes, open to the promise and surprise of our own unfolding.
May you be safe. May you be healthy. May you be at peace.
After growing up in small towns of New England and Wisconsin, Lisa developed a strong connection to the affirming rhythms of the natural world while working in the mountains and coasts of Alaska and Washington. She currently lives in an aging farmhouse on the coast of Maine with her husband, two teenage sons, and a handful of animals. Lisa was ordained an Interfaith Minister by the Chaplaincy Institute of Maine (ChIME) in June of 2019. She is the author of, Without A Map: A Caregiver’s Journey through the Wilderness of Heart and Mind. Lisa shares reflections regularly at lisa.steelemaley.io
Lily spears image by Lisa Steele-Maley
