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Reflections in the Silver Cup

LOVE IN THE TIME OF CORONA VI

I brought down the trash last evening and sat in my RAV for a few minutes to let the battery charge up. Getting out I felt my love for the RAV and my longing to go somewhere with it, live in it for a while again. And then I walked the perimeter of the parking lot. It didn't matter that it's a parking lot filled with cars and dumpsters, because there was all the pink and the baby blue and the slate blue—everywhere, except in the west. There the gold and the tangerine. The sky. So I walked backwards for a while to joy in the sundown there. And the granite upthrusts of the mountains were dusky rose, and I felt so blessed to be here, to witness this unbearable beauty. And people moving in their cars through the lot waved to me and that, too, was a blessing.

 

THE SUN

~ Mary Oliver from New and Selected Poems: Volume I

 

Have you ever seen

anything

in your life

more wonderful

 

than the way the sun,

every evening,

relaxed and easy,

floats toward the horizon

 

and into the clouds or the hills,

or the rumpled sea,

and is gone—

and how it slides again

 

out of the blackness,

every morning,

on the other side of the world,

like a red flower

 

streaming upward on its heavenly oils,

say, on a morning in early summer,

at its perfect imperial distance—

and have you ever felt for anything

 

such wild love—

do you think there is anywhere, in any language,

a word billowing enough

for the pleasure

 

that fills you,

as the sun

reaches out

as it warms you

 

as you stand there,

empty-handed—

or have you too

turned from this world—

 

or have you too

gone crazy

for power,

for things?

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LOVE IN THE TIME OF CORONA V

Found on an acequia wall in the North Valley

With apologies to Gabriel Garcia Marquez

 

People are noticing that emotions might be riding higher than usual right now. True for me, too. I don't easily feel anger. I'm much more in touch with sorrow generally, with feeling hurt. But Monday I got two emails that I responded to (internally) in a high dudgeon of anger. At another time, I would possibly have been somewhat angry, but not like this. I let the anger be there all day—doing none of the work I had planned, not going outside even once, taking two naps, reading in bed—sulking if the truth be known. Indulging my anger.

 

Or maybe I was doing something else. In the past couple of days I've seen two memes advising us in the time of COVID-19 not to pay attention to those other memes that are advocating self-improvement in the face of devastation. Instead, they say, Be extra tender with yourself. We are in a time of collective grief. It's all right to be sad, angry, even despondent (though I hope none of us gets stuck there). It's a time for accepting what we're feeling, a time for gentleness with self and others. When I think about self- acceptance, I so often remember the simple, profound prayer of memoirist Patricia Hampl, in Virgin Time: In Search of the Contemplative Life: "This is how I am." That's all. This is how I am. It is all right to be how and who I am. In fact, it is probably a duty.

 

Perhaps the recommendation itself sounds like self-improvement. I guess if you tend to be harsh with yourself, being gentle would be an improvement. Accepting myself exactly as I am—also an improvement because I'm often not there. Nevertheless, in trying to show the face of love here in the time of Corona, in revealing a silver lining or two, I hope I haven't been guilty of advocating self-improvement. If I have you may chastise me. But gently, in love, please.

 

When the thumb of fear lifts, we are so alive.

                                  ~ Mary Oliver,

from "May," White Pine

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