I woke to a text from my roommate (sheltering afar with his parents in Texas) saying the neighbors heard men’s voices and moving furniture around 2am last night.
and bolted over.
False alarm. There wasn’t a break in, relief, but it did feel surreal to Uber down from the Marina to my empty apartment and scan for signs of burglary. Nothing. Just my half-made bed and the drying rack left out to rust when we packed and left in a hurry.
I messaged my dentist about coming in and to my surprise, he offered me a 10am slot. The receptionist and I peered at each other like aliens, emphasizing our social niceties and commenting on the weather. A mundane trip to the dentist felt like pure luxury.
The sun is returning to the Spring Equinox and ancestral dreams of preparing the seeds for planting along the rio. Will the rains come?
In these days, I find myself responding to friends worried about COVID-19 with this offering:
This is the unseen world that is that is now manifesting. The unseen world that is so effective. And only not seen because of our anthropocentric limited perception of what is real and alive.
The vast unknown connections and interdependencies that we are barely conscious of, but which the current conditions have awakened us to.
We are not alone. The unseen is also present.
We have to be humble in the presence of the unseen, as well as the living and active beings, because we depend on each other.
With this, it is worth reflecting on the nature, scale, and scope of compassion and all our relations.
When the seeds and prayers are put into the earth, the reluctant rains will also come so compassion will be required.
When we have moved on, safe, we must keep a reminder of what these days were like.