Saturday was a good day in our little bubble. The August birthdays of myself and my best beloved fall within three days of each other. Normally we would have taken a much longer time out to celebrate, but of course this year is not normal. Instead, we packed our masks and a picnic, and took a quick day trip to our favorite beach. We climbed one of the many rock formations, and sat for a long while and watched the waves break. It’s powerful, awe-inspiring, and oddly peaceful to follow the noisy, continuous heaving of the water, over and over and over again. Safe on our rock, with the entire world around us in constant, never ending motion.
Being back home again to our normal turf, made me appreciate our day away even more. There are waves here at home too. I try my best to escape and hide in the stillness of the garden, but very close to my green oasis, the tent city on the nearby freeway exit is growing, as the days go by, and people with rolled up sleeping bags collect cans to survive. As soon as I glance at my phone, the ebb tide flow of newsflashes and scandals crash over my head, and I get sucked into the vortex of violence, poverty, and hate that is the world outside. “Don’t look at your phone, dummy”, I can hear you say. Weirdly, I feel like I have to. Like a shipwrecked clinging to flotsam, I feel an urgent need to follow along in the tidal wave of tangled information and disinformation, lest I lose my grip on reality and will never again be able to retrieve it. I don’t dare to let go – too much is at stake. It’s funny how the fluid waves of the ocean has the capacity to still both mind and heart, while the murky ripples of our collective swamp can be so completely unnerving and disconcerting. This week is only two days old, but my heart is already in my throat. How about you? How do you keep going?