Satellite by Ben Abraham
I'm grateful for when I get on the phone with family and friends and we make each other laugh. Oh, how I laughed so hard with three of my girlfriends last night. I think I laughed more than usual. I was craving humor.
I'm grateful for when I spoke to one of my dear friends and she reminded me of the soul work we were meant to do on this Earth.
I'm grateful for the people in my life doing incredible and intentional work: whether it's on the frontlines of taking care of the sick, of their children at home, of their parents, of their employees, of their customers, of their students...
I'm grateful for those moments when my son makes Anay and me laugh...epic poops still have me rofl!
I'm grateful when I cry as I hear heartbreaking stories from people I know, because I am reminded that I can feel.
And I'm so grateful when I turn off the news and step away from the all the social media feeds, the anxities, the fears.
When I can find a song that helps me find calm. When I can find words from spiritual leaders that make me pause for a moment. I find a sanctuary.
Don't, don't lose faith
I know it can be so hard somedays
Go, hide your face
But when you're ready come back to your place
Here, right by me
Take all the time you need
And when you feel you can be found
Call up and missing around
When the walls come crashing down
I'll be your solid ground.
M. woke up at 4:30am this morning (so early, almost meditative early:) I put on an episode of On Being. Krista Tipett interviewed Rebecca Solnit a few years ago. She is a writer, historian and activist. I wasn't aware of her work before this interview and wow, her words couldn't have been more fitting for today. She spoke about hope and storytelling and connection through challenging times. The historians and the spiritually connected - they have these insights that can remind us to breathe, to believe.
Solnit looked at Hurricane Katrina and the redemptive stories that came from these kinds of challenging moments that collective groups face in history. She says,
PREACH, Rebecca!
I immediately felt a sense of calm flood over me after I listened to her wisdom. Similar to when I heard Satellite.
Do you all feel it? Do you feel this sense of humanity that has been latent for a while? There is this energy brewing beneath the surface. For the first time in a long time, we all have a common challenge around the world we are dealing with. This pandemic is heartbreaking, but there is a connectivity that feels profound. If I were to meet someone from Iran, India, or Spain, I'm fairly certain we would be speaking about how corona has impacted our families, our livelihoods. Wild.
Later this morning, M. took another nap and I started writing. And reading. And I came upon an article by David Brooks.
He brought up similar questions around connecivity and a wondering:
"Have you noticed that music and art are already filling the emotional gaps left by the absence of direct human contact?"
Absolutely - the video that went viral last week of the Italians singing in Siena from their apartments made me draw my hand to my heart.
He asks at the end of his piece:
"I wonder if there will be an enduring shift in consciousess after all this. All those tribal us-them stories don't seem quite as germane right now The most relevant unit of society at the moment is the entire human family."
I appreciate this sentiment. Though it runs a little too optimistic for me. I know that this virus will have huge economic consequences and we will need compassionate leaders who can help to create policies that are equitable for all, especially those impacted the most. While my faith in political leadership is fairly non-existent, I know one damn thing for sure: the people will come together in really beautiful ways. They always do. And to Rebecca Solnit's point, I hope these are the kinds of stories that surface more and more. I'll be searching for them (like these), getting inspired by them, taking action, and working to create my own.
In the mean time, I hope so hard you all can find refuge in a song, a joke, a phone call or whatever gives you peace today. I hope you find your satellite.
When you think you lost the line
Stuck in a starless night
Lift your eyes and watch the sky
I'll be your satellite
Ben Abraham: Satellite
I'm grateful for when I spoke to one of my dear friends and she reminded me of the soul work we were meant to do on this Earth.
I'm grateful for the people in my life doing incredible and intentional work: whether it's on the frontlines of taking care of the sick, of their children at home, of their parents, of their employees, of their customers, of their students...
I'm grateful for those moments when my son makes Anay and me laugh...epic poops still have me rofl!
I'm grateful when I cry as I hear heartbreaking stories from people I know, because I am reminded that I can feel.
And I'm so grateful when I turn off the news and step away from the all the social media feeds, the anxities, the fears.
When I can find a song that helps me find calm. When I can find words from spiritual leaders that make me pause for a moment. I find a sanctuary.
Don't, don't lose faith
I know it can be so hard somedays
Go, hide your face
But when you're ready come back to your place
Here, right by me
Take all the time you need
And when you feel you can be found
Call up and missing around
When the walls come crashing down
I'll be your solid ground.
Photo by Greg Rakozy on Unsplash
This song has been with me through different times in the last couple of years. I've literally just closed my eyes and it has given me such peace. I appreciate the simplicity of the piano and the strings that accompany the depth of Ben Abraham's words. His music has often been described as deeply human. That's what I need these days. With all the distancing, I need these deeply human moments. A voice that hits a note, a lyric that immediately shifts my mind, a chord that elicits relief. Satellite gives me hope in the uncertainty.
M. woke up at 4:30am this morning (so early, almost meditative early:) I put on an episode of On Being. Krista Tipett interviewed Rebecca Solnit a few years ago. She is a writer, historian and activist. I wasn't aware of her work before this interview and wow, her words couldn't have been more fitting for today. She spoke about hope and storytelling and connection through challenging times. The historians and the spiritually connected - they have these insights that can remind us to breathe, to believe.
"Hope, for me, just means a Buddhist sense of uncertainty, of coming to terms with the fact that we don't know what will happen and there's maybe room for us to intervene...We live in a very surprising world where nobody anticipated the way the Berlin Wall would fall or the Arab Spring would rise up..."
"There's a way a disaster throws people into the present and sort of gives them this supersaturated immediacy that also includes a deep sense of connection. It's as though in some violent gift you've been given a spiritual awakening where you're close to mortality in a way that makes you feel more alive; you're deeply in the present and can let go of past and future and your personal narrative, in some ways."
I immediately felt a sense of calm flood over me after I listened to her wisdom. Similar to when I heard Satellite.
Do you all feel it? Do you feel this sense of humanity that has been latent for a while? There is this energy brewing beneath the surface. For the first time in a long time, we all have a common challenge around the world we are dealing with. This pandemic is heartbreaking, but there is a connectivity that feels profound. If I were to meet someone from Iran, India, or Spain, I'm fairly certain we would be speaking about how corona has impacted our families, our livelihoods. Wild.
Later this morning, M. took another nap and I started writing. And reading. And I came upon an article by David Brooks.
He brought up similar questions around connecivity and a wondering:
"Have you noticed that music and art are already filling the emotional gaps left by the absence of direct human contact?"
Absolutely - the video that went viral last week of the Italians singing in Siena from their apartments made me draw my hand to my heart.
He asks at the end of his piece:
"I wonder if there will be an enduring shift in consciousess after all this. All those tribal us-them stories don't seem quite as germane right now The most relevant unit of society at the moment is the entire human family."
I appreciate this sentiment. Though it runs a little too optimistic for me. I know that this virus will have huge economic consequences and we will need compassionate leaders who can help to create policies that are equitable for all, especially those impacted the most. While my faith in political leadership is fairly non-existent, I know one damn thing for sure: the people will come together in really beautiful ways. They always do. And to Rebecca Solnit's point, I hope these are the kinds of stories that surface more and more. I'll be searching for them (like these), getting inspired by them, taking action, and working to create my own.
In the mean time, I hope so hard you all can find refuge in a song, a joke, a phone call or whatever gives you peace today. I hope you find your satellite.
When you think you lost the line
Stuck in a starless night
Lift your eyes and watch the sky
I'll be your satellite
Ben Abraham: Satellite
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