Here we are, all together in our apartness from each other. What a bizarre reality and time this is.

How are you holding up? What are you doing for self-care?

I posted some ideas on Instagram (@wolcottcounseling) earlier tonight. What would you add? How are you adjusting to this new reality? What’s new, and what remains the same?

Me: I’m working from home, in a private and secure corner of my house –removed from the rest of my family while I’m seeing clients (on my computer screen that is). My husband’s working from home too, in another part of our house, with headphones on, helping folks at the University operate in this new reality. It’s the golden era of distance learning! (I get to observe him working a bit, but not vice-versa.) And my two teens are on a strange and long spring break.

I miss being with my clients. I miss my office. I can’t wait until we can be together again.

But I’m SO grateful for the technology we do have to stay connected!

After I posted on Instagram, I wanted to share more with you. To share what I’m really leaning into, what specifically makes me feel better.

So I’m starting a new weekly thing here: sharing what gives me perspective and comfort in this strange new world.

Starting next week, I’ll be posting about a poem on Monday, a podcast epidsode on Wednesday, and a book on Friday. (And I’ll continue doing that until this pandemic is over).

My thinking about the timing works like this:

Poetry: to center and deepen thinking, to set the tone for the week.

Podcast: to hear conversation and other voices mid-week, as we round the corner on what for some of us is a very loooong and sometimes isolating week.

Book: to invite spending time with longer thoughts as we go into the weekend when we have more time.

But I have three right now I can’t wait to share, so this week, you get it all at once!

POEM

Pandemic
What if you thought of it
as the Jews consider the Sabbath—
the most sacred of times?
Cease from travel.
Cease from buying and selling.
Give up, just for now,
on trying to make the world
different than it is.
Sing. Pray. Touch only those
to whom you commit your life.
Center down.
And when your body has become still,
reach out with your heart.
Know that we are connected
in ways that are terrifying and beautiful.
(You could hardly deny it now.)
Know that our lives
are in one another’s hands.
(Surely, that has come clear.)
Do not reach out your hands.
Reach out your heart.
Reach out your words.
Reach out all the tendrils
of compassion that move, invisibly,
where we cannot touch.
Promise this world your love—
for better or for worse,
in sickness and in health,
so long as we all shall live.
–Lynn Ungar 3/11/20

PODCAST

Brene Brown has a brand new podcast called Unlocking Us. And it’s amazing. It launched on March 20. Here’s the link:  https://brenebrown.com/unlockingus/

Listen to her first episode, FFTs.

FFTs stands for Effing First Time.
Which is where we all are right now.
I mean, none of us have lived during a worldwide pandemic, so it’s our FFT for that.

Give a listen, and see if it doesn’t help you feel a little better about life as we navigate completely new waters.

BOOK

I’m currently reading The Overstory by Richard Powers, which won the Pulitzer Prize for fiction last year. It’s a sweeping, gorgeously detailed account of American life through time for multiple generations of different American families.

That is to say, immigrants (for we are all immigrants).

And trees. It’s also about trees.

Reading it, I feel wonder and gratitude about the resilience of all of our ancestors who struggled and put down roots — and sometimes thrived, and sometimes were decimated, but left enough DNA behind that you, and I and everyone we know is here on this earth at this time.

And alongside the stories of generations and generations of families, the trees leave DNA, too. And witness. And grow. And suffer. And survive. And provide cover. And comfort. And sometimes die. And are imbued with meaning for, and connected to people, and landscapes, stories and history.

Today, when finished my last session, I went outside and lay down in the hammock and just looked at and listened to the trees, the sky, the birds, all the noises around me that I rarely listen to so carefully. I thought: I’ve lived in our house for a decade, yet can’t identify half the trees around me. I’ll be working on changing that as I focus on the little space of life I get to call home, with loving attention, these next several weeks (months?).

I invite you to read The Overstory along with me, and consider the parallels we’re living now: a time fraught with FFTs, with newness, with no map, little history to draw on, no clear assumptions about the future. How do the stories of these families make you think about your own life? What are you creating? What will you leave behind?

What in the natural world accompanies you, silently witnesses you ,and gives you comfort?

And how can we treat this strange and uninvited pause in our lives as a sabbath?

See you next week with another poem, another podcast recommendation, and another book invitation. Until then, physically distance but don’t socially distance! Wash your hands, practice good emotional self-care, and be well. I miss you.