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| ISSUE NO. 599 |
| OVER THE PAST WEEK . . . Dorothy and I both had adventures at opposite ends of the spectrum. Two years ago, they might have seemed significant only on a more personal level, but with the perspective of the pandemic, they've challenged us to consider how the small choices we make ripple outward, and to ask ourselves: what matters most to us as we exercise our freedoms? Dorothy took her first family trans-Atlantic flight since the start of the pandemic, taking care to test before, during, and after, and to wear masks in all indoor spaces. I remained firmly rooted at home and at work, where the brewery finally re-opened for on-premise pours (albeit in a new outdoor-only set-up - a shift that has been in the works for the better part of the last two years). In both instances, we realized a few things...how critical it is to venture forward (in Dorothy's case, to explore, learn about, and connect with different environments; in my case, to satisfy a fundamental need for sharing and connecting)...how intensely grateful we are for the ability to do so...and how poignant it feels to know what we carry forward with us. In other words, how impossible it is to leave behind everything the pandemic has wrought, both in the tangible reality of lives lost, and in the enormous shift in perspective that we cannot, and must not, ignore. Rachel Ricketts, author of Do Better: Spiritual Activism for Fighting and Healing from White Supremacy, shared in an instagram story why she is still "observing community care practices" and her explanation is a straightforward reminder that we all need to hear. The same can be said for Suzanne Brennan Firstenberg's white flag memorial on the National Mall, which last September held one flag for each of the 670,000 people in the United States who had died from COVID (the current death toll is now approaching 1 million people here in the U.S.). This NYTimes article about the memorial addresses both the personal scale of loss, with messages written to loved ones on individual white flags, and the tremendous impact of collective grief. These are the things we can't leave behind as we venture forward. Can you imagine asking someone in grief why they're still crying, still feeling sad, still coming across moments or images or smells that bring them to their knees? In some ways, we do that as a society. Because grief makes us so uncomfortable, many of us seek for a way to smooth it over and leave it behind. But it is also possible to feel joy in our grieving, to go on living as we have never lived before. If we have learned anything, maybe it is that there is a place for despair, at times, but not for willful ignorance. There are many ways to engage with the world that are not about commodifying it, or cleansing it of the past. Today, we invite you to show care while you are expressing curiosity, sharing joy, and practicing gratitude. Many thanks, |
tidbits...resources on anti-racism, environmentalism and food culture AKA stuff we're reading / listening to / watching / noticing / thinking about / captivated by this Tuesday . . . |
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