Thursday, May 14
This morning I thought about my life, and I realized… I am still alive! I do not have the Covid-19 virus. I am well. The daily routines I busied myself with two months ago are gone; new ones have taken their place. The new activities are things I wanted to do before, but I didn’t have time. Now I have time, lots of time! So, now I sew. I read. I cook interesting meals, on weekdays and weekends. I paint watercolor pictures. I call people I love and talk for a long time. I make surprises for my grandchildren and leave them packages at the door. I watch the birds. I walk by the pond and wait for the fish to jump. I linger longer with my lover in bed in the morning. I grow flowers from seeds. I write.
I hear in the news that we may soon be stopping this sheltering in place. I wonder, what will I do when people return to the streets? When we are no longer separated from one another? When my children and grandchildren all gather at my home again for holidays and sleepovers? When the doors to everything open up? Will my days be as they were a few months ago? Or am I different now? Does my life have a new pattern, a different way about it, a balance tipped to a new angle?
I ask myself, what have I learned about life from this global pandemic? How has it changed me? How do I want it to change me? What about this new quieter, slower life do I want to stay with me? What am I anxious to return to?
Sometimes I forget that I am in charge of my life. There are some things in life that happen to me, but mostly, I happen to life. I decide what direction to go, what pace to set, and who to take with me. As the pandemic wanes, I can choose again how to spend the time I have left in this world. I can stay inside all the walls and constraints that have slowly over timed formed themselves around me as clearly as the walls of a castle. Or I can slip out in the darkness by the light of the moon and discover all the secrets and misty meadows the world has to offer me. I can hide under the covers and comfort the broken heart that nurses its wounds and memories of days past. Or I can set out on a new adventure to explore the mountains I have not yet climbed.
I wonder what I will do. I think this is my most important question right now. I like how the poetess, Mary Oliver, asks it: What do you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?
18 Comments
Kathy K.
exciting times ….in the midst of a new way of life.
Mary Ramerman Author
Dear Kathy,
I love that you are up so early – when the birds are singing and the sun is rising. No wonder you recognize these as exciting times!
Love, Mary
Mary Alice
What will I do? Will society force us to return to our hectic lives of old?
Mary Ramerman Author
I hope not, Mary Alice. I hope we can find a new way to be together.
Annie Petracca O'Reilly
Dear Rev. Mary. When you left your work as pastor of Spiritus, I felt so much sadness at not seeing you at masses and other activities. Now, I am so glad that you followed your heart and are doing the work that God and Mary inspired in you. I have just started following the blogs, and plan to meditate with each one. I am so grateful for your and Brian’s outpouring of pure love that I am sure is impossible not to share. Your hearts are melded with ours as we place our hands on our hearts and pray. I have always loved looking at the statue of Mother Mary standing so straight and tall. They are like the statues of Avalokiteshvara, the Buddhist bodhisatava of compassion. Thank you for turning my fear into love as the headlines sound wearisome each day. However, I can look forward and move forward each day with your God’s help. All I have to do is pause and place my hands on my heart and breathe.
Mary Ramerman Author
Dear Annie,
I love this opportunity to meditate together. I want to see the statue of Avalokiteshvara – I believe the Mother of God is present in all different faiths and each time I encounter her I learn a little bit more. Thank you for sharing that.
Love, Mary
Colleen Fox-Salah
What a beautiful entry. I love the way you write. It invites meditation so easily. And three cheers for including a Mary Oliver poem! I have been contemplating similar things. Essentially I feel like a mighty oak in a windstorm. Anchored and free.
Mary Ramerman Author
Dear Colleen,
Your images come alive for me! I grew up in California and saw many might oaks in windstorms – often in March – anchored and free.
Love, Mary
Francene C McCarthy
Thank you, Rev. Mary. You truly are an inspiration! I am hoping that life will continue to be slower, more contemplative. Blessings.
Fran
Mary Ramerman Author
Dear Fran,
If not slower, then more contemplative. Is that possible?
Love, Mary
Jennifer Guy Cook
Thank you, Reverend Mary, I’ve read your words over and over again. I wonder what I will do too. This pause has given me more time to think…and to take small steps forward on an old overgrown path, bending back the branches, pushing away the spiderwebs, clearing the way for dreams of long ago.
Mary Ramerman Author
Dear Jennifer,
I can picture that old overgrown path. I hope we can forge through it and make new discoveries about ourselves or for those dreams we carry inside of us.
Love, Mary
Marilu Aguilar
Thank you, Mary. This was so beautiful. I will keep your words close to my heart as I struggle to rejoin the human race and start living my life again (with a new perspective for sure) after people start returning to the streets.
Mary Ramerman Author
Dear Marilu,
I think how fully you have immersed yourself in the human race with your perseverance and compassion for the farmworkers. Thinking about you reminds how important it is that we do return.
Love, Mary
Mary Q
Thank you for sharing this writing and Mary Oliver’s poem. Through this pandemic, I have been thinking and praying on a different career path that it is not so stressful, closer to home etc. Today, my dear co-worker was notified that her company is eliminating her program. I am devastated for her and our working relationship/friendship. This is the time that I am asking what I want to do in my wild and crazy life. I will share this reading with her. <3
Mary Ramerman Author
Dear Mary,
I’m sorry to hear that your co-worker and friend has lost her job. I think this is one of the hardest parts of this time – to watch the people we care about suffer. When they are in pain, we are, too. We are all so connected.
Love, Mary
Debi Grayson
I am finding myself feeling afraid of how our lives will be when this is over. I feel sad to think of so many children not being able to see their friends for so long. I think about how different their young lives may be because of the pandemic.
Kathryn Franz
Rev. Mary, thank you for these May meditations. I am only now (in June!) savoring them, one each day. You and Brian have gifted us with such blessings with your words, your observations, your questions. I hope that all of us will emerge from this time with a stronger commitment to appreciate each moment… to embrace, rather than fear, the stillness and silence… to go deeper within… to see ourselves and others with more compassion and understanding. Thank you!
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