photograph by Lara Herscovitch
My wife Roberta and I have been staying home, starting about two weeks ago. Most of my programs in mindfulness and meditation at Mercy Center have been cancelled, so I – like many of us – have a lot of unexpected time at home. I have had a long list of to-dos around the house; now they will get done (or some of them, anyway).
I am a doctor and a researcher. The organization I founded and direct is called The Watershed Partnership. That word – watershed – was chosen carefully. It’s a time marking a momentous transition.
A momentous transition.
Pope Francis said in his encyclical on the environment and social justice, Laudato Si, “Many things have to change course, but it is we human beings, above all, that need to change.” In support of this shared vision and desire to help create that change, my own work shifted from single-issue environmental advocacy and planning, to helping humans to practice peace and live mindfully on the Earth.
I am a listener. In this unprecedented time, I have been turning to meditation, mindfulness, poetry and other writing to help me listen – to myself, loved ones, colleagues, nature. I’m playing guitar more – currently learning Kate Wolf’s “Give Yourself to Love.” (Besides the fact that I love her music in general, that title for certain is always good advice.)
Today, I’m sharing an essay and two poems that moved me, with the hope they might help you in this extraordinarily difficult period. First, the essay – on coping through gentleness, empathy, compassion, awareness. How to Find Tenderness During a Crisis, by Oren Jay Sofer:
Yesterday I was teaching a class online about how to cultivate more empathy and compassion for ourselves.
There are so many obstacles that can make it hard to find tenderness for ourselves. We might believe that our personal pain doesn’t matter in light of all that’s happening. We might have been taught that it’s selfish to attend to our own emotions, or even feel ashamed of having needs at all.
Yet we can’t really be there for others if we’re not here for ourselves, can we?
It’s easy to feel overwhelmed, anxious or afraid right now.
I’m in touch with people who have been laid off, and with others torn up inside from having had to lay off employees. I’ve spoken with health care workers without enough protective equipment, breaking down in tears from the stress.
And I’m speaking with those who are at home (like me), doing all we can to make the best of a tense and difficult situation—friends having panic attacks, parents struggling to keep it together for their kids.
Several days a week my own partner commutes to the hospital where she works as a Palliative Care Chaplain. I kiss her goodbye in the morning and tell her I love her, feeling worried for her safety and wishing she could work from home with me.
There is a Chinese proverb from Chuang Tzu’s writings that I have always loved: It is when the snow and ice are upon them that we see the strength of the Cypress and Pines.
Now is the time to draw on our inner and outer resources, to be here for each other. We all have inner resources (whether we recognize it or not) and we have each other.
Awareness is a resource. Compassion is a resource. Kindness and generosity and patience are resources. Our ancestors and lineage and faith are resources. And the unfathomable generosity of this planet—that keeps doing all it can to cleanse the water and the air in spite of our actions—is a resource.
Things are hard right now for us humans; there’s no way around that. There is no simple “look on the bright side” to make the situation more palatable.
But there is an opportunity to bring forth the goodness in our hearts, to share that with each other, and to allow ourselves to be nourished by it. And that starts with finding some tenderness for yourself, right here and now, just where you are.
I invite you to take a moment to pause.
Can you turn your attention inward with a kind, gentle gaze? Can you feel one in-breath? Can you feel your feet on the ground as you breathe out? With everything that’s happening, it’s easy to forget to slow down and make space to be with how you’re feeling.
If you want to connect, I’ll be leading a series of guided meditations online over the coming weeks… You can find the schedule here.
Second, an opportunity. I know we can’t all stay home like Roberta and I are able to. Those in the medical field, essential workers, and life circumstances. But still, the opportunity for healing, connection, and a healthier future. “And the People Stayed Home,” by Kitty O’Meara:
And the people stayed home. And read books, and listened, and rested, and exercised, and made art, and played games, and learned new ways of being, and were still. And listened more deeply. Some meditated, some prayed, some danced. Some met their shadows. And the people began to think differently.
And the people healed. And, in the absence of people living in ignorant, dangerous, mindless, and heartless ways, the earth began to heal.
And when the danger passed, and the people joined together again, they grieved their losses, and made new choices, and dreamed new images, and created new ways to live and heal the earth fully, as they had been healed.
Lastly, “An Imagined Letter From Covid-19 To Humans,” by Kristin Flyntz:
Stop. Just stop.
It is no longer a request. It is a mandate.
We will help you.
We will bring the supersonic, high speed merry-go-round to a halt
We will stop
the planes
the trains
the schools
the malls
the meetings
the frenetic, furied rush of illusions and “obligations” that keep you from hearing our
single and shared beating heart,
the way we breathe together, in unison.
Our obligation is to each other,
As it has always been, even if, even though, you have forgotten.
We will interrupt this broadcast, the endless cacophonous broadcast of divisions and distractions,
to bring you this long-breaking news:
We are not well.
None of us; all of us are suffering.
Last year, the firestorms that scorched the lungs of the earth
did not give you pause.
Nor the typhoons in Africa, China, Japan.
Nor the fevered climates in Japan and India.
You have not been listening.
It is hard to listen when you are so busy all the time, hustling to uphold the comforts and conveniences that scaffold your lives.
But the foundation is giving way,
buckling under the weight of your needs and desires.
We will help you.
We will bring the firestorms to your body
We will bring the fever to your body
We will bring the burning, searing, and flooding to your lungs
that you might hear:
We are not well.
Despite what you might think or feel, we are not the enemy.
We are Messenger. We are Ally. We are a balancing force.
We are asking you:
To stop, to be still, to listen;
To move beyond your individual concerns and consider the concerns of all;
To be with your ignorance, to find your humility, to relinquish your thinking minds and travel deep into the mind of the heart;
To look up into the sky, streaked with fewer planes, and see it, to notice its condition: clear, smoky, smoggy, rainy? How much do you need it to be healthy so that you may also be healthy?
To look at a tree, and see it, to notice its condition: how does its health contribute to the health of the sky, to the air you need to be healthy?
To visit a river, and see it, to notice its condition: clear, clean, murky, polluted? How much do you need it to be healthy so that you may also be healthy? How does its health contribute to the health of the tree, who contributes to the health of the sky, so that you may also be healthy?
Many are afraid now.
Do not demonize your fear, and also, do not let it rule you. Instead, let it speak to you—in your stillness,
listen for its wisdom.
What might it be telling you about what is at work, at issue, at risk, beyond the threats of personal inconvenience and illness?
As the health of a tree, a river, the sky tells you about quality of your own health, what might the quality of your health tell you about the health of the rivers, the trees, the sky, and all of us who share this planet with you?
Stop.
Notice if you are resisting.
Notice what you are resisting.
Ask why.
Stop. Just stop.
Be still.
Listen.
Ask us what we might teach you about illness and healing, about what might be required so that all may be well.
We will help you, if you listen.
Thank you for listening.
To get in touch directly with Jerry: waterpartnership@sbcglobal.net
Learn more about The Watershed Partnership