Day 62: Gathering Place

May 13, 2020
Day 62

These words, in an email from a fellow writer who is going to republish a post of mine of his blog this weekend, really touched me today:

“I have to say that of all the posts on Facebook that I read every day, your posts are so full of life and energy, and it’s such a pleasure to spend time with you and your words. (I actually forget I’m on Facebook!)”

I watched the first two-thirds or so of the "Becoming" documentary tonight -- will finish it tomorrow -- and of course teared up several times. Of her book tour, Michelle Obama says, “What I experience in these big arenas of the power of gathering. We’re sharing a set of experiences."

I could not help but feel the loss of not being able to gather in those ways right now, and perhaps for a very long time to come. Watching her connect with every single person in line to get their book signed, seeing her look into their eyes, tune into them in such a deeply genuine and personal way, was just a stunning display of authenticity, generosity, power, and grace.

How do we have experiences like that when we can't physically gather? People who have been housebound or known the experience of having their physical mobility limited by illness or disability may already know this well.

For people who are accustomed to being able to move freely about the cabin -- the cabin being life, the cabin being the wider world -- quarantine might be intensely isolating. No doubt. We are all having our own very personal experiences of this broader reality. And of course, there are many for whom staying home is not an option, but for now, I digress.

What I realized in the moment I read that email earlier today was that it is those moments that fill this need, for me at least, for connection. Is it a packed stadium buzzing with energy? Clearly not. But in some ways, the pandemic is our arena now; in some way that I cannot fully wrap my head around, we are gathering by sharing our days, be it in words of images or rants or vetted information or moments of levity and laughter.

There are so many things to feel right now, and also times where I just want to watch Married at First Sight and eat more homemade cookies. The last thing I'm interested in is making quarantine into some twisted self-improvement project.

I've been aware all day of how much I need to remember to reach for hope, when it can feel like clutching a handful of air. But then I read an article by a really passionate and dedicated researcher, or a client explores some honest and tender territory during one of our calls, or I receive an inquiry about reposting something I wrote, or an old Facebook friend publishes a stunning, brave personal essay, or a poet tells me she has conversations with me in her head at least once a day, and I don't have to reach at all.

Our government has not only abandoned us but is actively against the people of this country -- We, the People. For me, every single time we share what's true, or take the time to reach out, or say thank you, or ask for help, we are staking our claim. Maybe we ourselves become the gathering place.