This is a difficult time to write funny anecdotes about trouble making little maniacs. It’s already too loud. Everyone is anxious. People are angry (and rightly so), there is sickness and violence and hate. So much conflict. Such ugly politics. How will any of it be resolved? Aside from the current brutality in the United States, the entire world has hardly found their way out of this pandemic.
I must admit however that the day we had, stood in stark contrast to any of that. And maybe this description will take you to another place for a moment.
Imagine a gorgeous, almost summer day. Not a cloud in the sky and very warm. There we stood at a new playground on top of a hill overlooking a valley. There was a breeze. Each time it brushed past me, a little kiss from heaven. I watched the girls on the swing, the wind lifting their skirts, making them like sail boats as they swung back and forth. Big Sister said, It’s like a buffet, they have everything. and with stars in her eyes, ran off toward the jungle gym. Climbing, their little leg muscles pushed them higher, their wiry arms brought them back down. Bare feet dancing in the grass and their adorable toes squishing into the sand. There were a few other children there. You could hear birds and crickets. There was a lovely, tangible peace in that place.
Life for us right now, although exhausting, is idyllic. I know it. I’m soaking it all in as best I can. I’m extremely grateful. But in light of all that is happening around the world, especially at home, I’m also sorry. I’m aware that everyone doesn’t have this. I used to wonder why, now I see that a lot of the reasons are simple and systemic. Complicated to fix but not to understand.
The other day I mentioned tearing racism out of America by the roots, really clearing the earth and starting anew. I stand by that but when I think about the logistics of it, that voice of panic shows up–The problem will never be solved, it says. It would require a total collapse of the system and that will never happen and nobody wants that anyway.
And that’s when I notice some other tell tale signs of the panic voice: it uses words like always and never. It makes real bold claims and cannot back them up. It attaches itself to a fear or a doubt and rides it like one of the four horseman, leaving you spinning, gasping for air but no closer to resolution.
So I’m reminding you again to step up and look at it. Turn the panic over in your hand like a curiosity, then set it down and walk away from it. I think the same can be said for confronting Fear, but that is a topic for another day.
We ended our day with story time and snuggles and prayers that were a little longer than usual. My Little Bean, the one who points to the black kids in the story books when I ask her to point to the one that looks like her, sounded like a southern lady in church during the prayer. There she lay in her bed with her hands folded saying, Yes, and nodding to every word and when I mentioned hope for change and a wave of powerful, loving people to rise up, she sat right up in her bed.
Hope and action. Until tomorrow,