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?
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| It was difficult to reconcile this view from the living room window with the grief and fear in my heart. |
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| 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. |
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| I am grateful I went to this celebration of Votes for Women on Tuesday evening in downtown Champaign. I had hope then. |
A friend posted the last section of MLK's 'Where Do We Go From Here' speech. It's the only thing that helps me feel better. I keep reading it, remembering he was an imperfect man who fought against injustice with grace, peace, and love. He led the way, like many others.
ReplyDelete"In the midst of chaos
When the wind is howling I hear
The ancient song
Of the ones who went before
And know that peace will come."
-Susan Stauter
Thank you for this. It helps me believe we'll find our way through, eventually.
ReplyDeleteA wise crone once advised me, when I was stewing in uncertainty and anxiety: If you don't know what to do, do the dishes. So I did. I think her advice works on many levels, but mostly as a reminder that no matter how bleak and overwhelming life can seem, there is always, always, some small practical action that we can take to make things more manageable.
ReplyDeleteWise indeed! Thank you so much, Sue.
DeleteI, like you, am devastated, stunned, hurt, and feeling untethered. My (step)daughter reached out to me in tears this morning, wondering what lies ahead and how to make sense of it all. I did not have many words to console her, but we were able to lift each other up a bit. It feels good that I could be there for her. Those of us reeling from this turn of events must continue to lift each other up, to be stronger together, to continue to fight for what is right and just, not just for ourselves, but also for those who think and feel differently than we do. There is much work to be done on many fronts, and the only way ahead is to move forward, step by small step, toward the future we believe is possible.
ReplyDeletePriscilla, thank you for your inspiring words.
DeleteOh, thank you for that poem, Umeeta. So beautiful and so necessary. We are so in need of that today.
ReplyDeleteThank you for your words. Peace to you.
DeleteThank you, Umeeta. I have spent the day in a haze, alternating between tears and sleep and obsessive reading of the still unbelievable news. But what has helped is the contact I've had with friends from all over the country checking in and sharing our love for each other. And when I needed a hug, a friend was there to give it. My husband has been a fantastic support. All of this reminds me of what a strong, loving community I am a part of. When I'm ready to move forward, I will have that position of strength to start from. We are not alone!
ReplyDeleteWe are not alone. And there is great comfort in that. Thank you for your words, Julie.
DeleteFaith will win. Love will win. My little guy has shed many tears over this election. My boys know there is hate. My boys know there is fear and intolerance. The fact that they know that before I said a word and want more makes me believe our future will be better. Kids learn hate and fear. They are not born with it. I teach preschool and love the opportunities there are to help kids learn love and empathy. I am sad, but I will not give up!
ReplyDeleteJenelle, how fortunate we are to have you and your wonderful boys as neighbors. For the kids and for all of us, we will not give up.
DeleteThat poem is beautiful. I'm the same vein, I've been focusing on my dog. She was annoyed that I didn't just go to sleep last night, but she does know what matters. She knows about love, friendship, walks, peanut butter, and play. She lives in the moment. She doesn't hold grudges. If I focus on her, I feel better. -Erin
ReplyDeleteErin, I am so glad you can find comfort in being present with your dog. Your description of your dog makes me think of how Mary Oliver describes the cat in her poem "Morning." I wish you peace in the days ahead.
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