PANDEMIC DIARY
BUSY IN MY HEAD
February 15, 2022
TRUE STORY: On Sunday, Adele and I along with another couple went for a walk along a harbor pier that extended into the shoreline rocks alongside wooden stanchions standing in the water reaching skyward and providing a perch for large gulls and pelicans. One pelican flew onto the rocks just below us so viewing could be up front and close. A family was already standing there watching the pelican and their son was chatting away with such clearly articulated thoughts I had to ask how old he was. Well, he just turned five years old. I went up to him and asked him, “What if a Peli-can’t?”. He turned wearing a kid’s smirk and shot back, “That’s not funny…DUDE”.
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A POEM:
Death is an acquaintance I nod at while passing,
without shaking hands or asking, “how y’a doing”?
like a neighbor walking their dog in the quiet of morning’s
dawn or a runner in the middle of a good sweat,
eyes rolling back in her head and heaving with exhaustion.
I don’t invite Death to stand still. I keep myself and
it occupied knowing that on one of the walks around
the block on some warm summer day or in the midst of
a maelstrom it will stop, notice me…and smile.
Death is like that. It has no plan, no design, no
date certain; neither is Death random or without
association with you and the life you lead. Its nothing to
perseverate about and yet, it may be something you
want to keep in mind as you go about your days.
As a child, I used to talk to Death, but Death did not respond…
although, it wasn’t completely silent either. It’s presence is such that,
like a phantom, or like Harry’s Potter’s Invisibility Cloak, one
feels its presence and is unsure of what one is sensing.
Indeed, its odd that as I age I feel more accommodating with
Death, which suggests something is operating other than time.
I imagine my psyche to be playing a role and although my
cellular structure is slowly failing, my brain capacity diminishing, I find
my attitude has settled. Resistance has yielded to resolution. Disparities
and contradictions pass without comment. I experience something
larger at work and I accept its Nature. This recognition has
conformed me to gladly compliant. Maybe this is what is meant by
being ‘One and With’. I’ll go along with this for now.
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Well, here we go again. A time of year when the faithful assert their fidelity with pedestrian rhymes, stale sentiments and trifles of trite earnestness while the adulterous disguise their cheating hearts with poetry’s perfidy. Everyone considers Valentine’s Day a farce - an annual excuse to mollify bad behavior - whether to appease or tranquilize a relationship that is faltering or add richness and sustenance to re-nesting happy lovebirds.
But, today I am thinking otherwise. We can bring more to the idea and design of Valentine’s Day. Certainly, it can continue as a testament to love - love for a spouse, love for family, and love for friends. Indeed, “love for” describes the necessary adjunct of relationship. Love is relational. It is you and the subject of that love you feel. In that sense, love is so much more than a kiss and an embrace. It is the admiration and caring for another. It is the act of appreciation, more meaningful than infatuation; the intimacy of acknowledgement, more personal than distant admiration; much more than sentimental; it is abiding more than adoring, honoring and respecting more than acceptance; it is forgiveness in place of willful magnanimity.
All of this came to mind while writing a Valentine’s Day Card to my wife. All of this came to me while reading ‘Sapiens’. What a depressing book. Humans, to the author, are either ‘subject to’ or ‘incapable of’…you name it. The mess we’ve made is inherent to the specie - our urge to dominate; our reliance on Wheat; our inability to manage large populations; our belief in Gods; our interminable desire for and pursuit of money. Our innate framing of “Us vs. Them”. We will never get what we had. We never had what we wanted. And, now we cannot catch up to technology. We’ve created a game and don’t know the rules. I haven’t figured out yet if the game is corrupt or the players…or both. But, this can’t end well. If you can never get enough of what you want, you are always wanting for more.
Yet, I have never felt so much love. Has love become a privilege? Do you have to afford love? Is Love a stage of life? Does everyone pass through it? I don’t know. Honestly, I do not know. I don’t know anything anymore. All I can observe is the feeling spurred allowing myself to feel the love I feel for my wife. The card did not say it all. My thoughts in those moments did not say it all. I do not know if I am capable of saying it all. I am not going to try. I will just remain grateful that I can still feel in spite of all that is going on around me.
