See, Hear, Touch

The most loving thing we can do for each other right now is see each other, in the fullness of our humanity: of our needs, mortality, limited vision, fear, capacity for love, support and generosity.

Welcome to August 2020 in which living with the spectre of Covid-19 has shifted from  an overreaction to an acute issue; from an acute issue to a chronic issue. A time in which individuals hope to be of value enough to be given 6 feet of space, the courtesy of recognizing shared air and the respect of being there in person. For others, we see the fight to substantiate their wish to control chaos [and stop all of this before things cannot be returned to normal] by refusing to wear a mask over their mouth and their nose.

August 2020 in which living with the awareness of racism and how we treat each other [how we ignore each other, assume you are fine where you are, know you belong there, assume a narrative about each other] both silences us and gives us room to finally proclaim embodied truths, silent rages and full humanity.

August 2020 in which fingernails are barely there as we hang on financially. A time in which we discover the strength of the bumpers of our bowling lanes as we try to stay on course. What can I keep? How do I….? What must I do? Where will I go? How will I do this?

“Here is my story!” we think to ourselves. This is happening to me. This is what I hope I will do with it. This is what I cannot change. This is something that has lain within me for years and I didn’t understand it until this moment in time. This is where my power lies. This is how I am.

We have been shown our priorities: in a moment of choice, a moment of seeing, we suddenly know who we must be with, who we must part from, what must be kept and what must be shed. In an instant.

We have been reminded of our humanity: that death lurks nearby; that touch is essential; that we are cruel; that we are kind; that we must see each other and listen to our stories.

Loving on Life’s Terms means a number of things in this moment. Mostly, today, it means hearing the cries for help, the cries to be seen, the need to matter. It means listening to each other’s stories and asking: And then what happened? Followed by: What do you need? And finally: how can I help [even when my circumstances can’t assist]. This is a moment in time in which our embodied conversation is around the need to survive, the desire to live, and the power of quality of life.  Loving on life terms is listening and thinking through how to live into the next chapter together.