I was off the grid for the weekend, a planned retreat to my primitive place in the woods before we began experiencing as a collective the aftermath of George Floyd’s murder and the chaos that descended upon the Twin Cities.
Friday the following haiku tumbled forth:
Our hearts grieve deeply
Sorrow of generations
Collective trauma
***
On Saturday, after reading old journals and during a re-read of Dani Shapiro’s memoir devotion, the following emerged:
Our paradoxes
Ideas contradicting
And nested within
***
A part of me felt anxiety while I was off the grid, missing the news, away from the internet. I was not even able to receive texts unless the wind was right and my cell intermittently had reception. Another part of me felt grateful for the retreat and the space away from knowing all of the heartbreaking external events of the world.
I used the weekend for reading past journals (I’m up to 2016 after about a year of reviewing my collection which goes back to 1992), reflection, writing and grieving. I went on walks and listened to what my inner voice seemed to request. I fasted for 20 hours on Saturday, allowing my body to be awake to any and all sensations.
Retreating requires enormous privilege, I realize. And it is something that feeds me psychologically and spiritually. Since I was very young I have always valued and treasured solitude and personal space. I wish it is something everyone could have when it is necessary.
After a retreat, there is the return. We live together in an interdependent web. We love each other. We hurt each other. We forgive each other. We acknowledge and apologize for past misdeeds. We resolve to treat each other with more respect. We understand that how we treat others is a reflection of our beliefs. We examine and unpack those beliefs, conditioned patterns we did not necessarily create consciously.
In the end, many of us realize that we are not separate from others. All living beings contain a divine spark, an unlikely miracle of energy and matter, defying the physical law of entropy.
How can we learn to value and love all humans, and all creatures of this earth? How can we remember our divine connection, our shared fate on this small planet?
These are questions for which I have no answers. Yet I keep asking them and my soul keeps beckoning me to live these questions as I strive to serve.
***
cristy@meximinnesotana.com
mexi minnesotana 
Such lovely and heart-felt reflections, Cristy. Very thought-provoking when you say that you, “live these questions.”
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Thank you, Becky. My heart is grieving today. I spent some time with a friend who lost her massage, yoga and therapy studio and many of the items within due to fire and water damage. While it was not her building that was targeted, sparks from a nearby bar fire (which was arson) jumped to her building. Many other people like artists and other practitioners were in there and the damage was heartbreaking. My friend is an educator against sexual violence and I’ve seen her as part of the solution to these histories. Yesterday I felt too much shock to experience grief. And today: so much grief. And when I hear leadership that wants to mobilize even more troops and the inflammatory language that is used, it takes all of my strength not to feel despair.
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I’m so sorry to hear about what your friends and others are going through, Cristy! Such a terrible time for so many people, added onto the pandemic isolation we’ve all experienced to one extent or another. We have no real leadership at the top, and I certainly know what you’re saying about being close to despair. We can’t give up hope, though! Take care of yourself!
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