When I went to bed on Monday night, the night before
Election Day, I told myself that whatever happened in the Presidential race the
next day, I would still go to sleep next to Marilyn the next night, our bedroom
would still be cozy, our house would still be our safe haven, my immediate
world would not change immediately. Even then, I knew I was telling myself a bedtime
story. But I needed to sleep. And I did.
Now it is Wednesday morning, the morning after Election Day.
The sun has come up; it’s a perfect, crisp, fall morning. Our Hillary sign is
in the front yard, where it has been since the summer. And millions of us are
faced with the inconceivable, awful reality—so awful that for now, I do not want
to spell it out.
How do we go on?
For me, the answer for now has been to avoid the media, the
analysis, and to follow my morning ritual of standing in front of the living
room window, palms together, and recalling at least three reasons I am
grateful. I managed to find three, even this morning, though I had to push much
else aside. Then I picked up the grey Unitarian Universalist hymnal and read a
meditation. I do this every day. Today,
I knew which one I needed: number 483, a poem by Wendell Berry titled “The
Peace of Wild Things.” You can find it here: http://www.onbeing.org/program/ellen-davis-and-wendell-berry-the-poetry-of-creatures/extra/the-peace-of-wild-things-by
For now, it is giving me the perspective and the strength I
need to go in and teach three classes and keep my devastation under wraps. Then
I will face the rest of the world and probably let the tears flow.
How are you coping today?
It was difficult to reconcile this view from the living room window with the grief and fear in my heart. |
I had taken this photo early in the evening to post when HRC won. Yes, I am that supporter, the one with buttons and bumper stickers galore. |
I am grateful I went to this celebration of Votes for Women on Tuesday evening in downtown Champaign. I had hope then. |