February 24, 2021
~ William E. Stafford
In my view, the only real upside to our enforced isolation is it can lead to introspection, which can lead to illumination.
For instance…if someone offered me an all-expenses-paid writer’s retreat (and I had no pressing obligations), I would jump to the moon. And then pack a bag. Writer’s retreat! Scratch the surface of many writers and you’ll find the longing for isolation right up there with air, water, and food.
I was reminded of the allure of writers’ retreats because a forum member mentioned they’d like to be able to offer them to any who wished to partake. (Thank you for the inspiration, dear forum member!)
This got me to thinking. Could I view lockdown and all that has befallen the world this last year as an extended retreat, put on by the Universe for all to partake?
The great difficulty, you see, is it’s hard to view as beneficial these circumstances that I can shoehorn into something vaguely resembling vacation, when I’m much too aware that the majority of the world is suffering mightily. If this is vacation, it’s the worst. Vacation. EVER.
I see no way around that. I can’t put on blinders. I can’t hold a scented hankie to my nose as I mince along, à la vintage French aristocrat, the one-armed filthy beggar beneath my notice. Repugnance arises, but not at the beggar.
Much as I’d like to proclaim what a dandy time this has been, continues to be, as I delve into my many foibles and bring the occasional dark corner to light to be “observed and released…” Or even the connections I’ve made online, the writing I have done that perhaps I wouldn’t have, if not in lockdown…despite these grudgingly acknowledged “benefits,” I’m mostly sad about the whole thing. This past year has often been a huge lump of sadness in the making.
I know! Low vibration! Not helping anyone here. So…where’s the hope, I wonder? Yoo-hoo! Hope! Get over here.
Hope, unfortunately, doesn’t respond well to being hailed like a misbehaving canine.
This is one for my heart to take care of. Heart knows how to call for hope.
Leaping into Faith to find Hope. From the springboard of the Heart.
It may not be an all-expenses-paid jaunt to French Provence for that writer’s retreat I long for, but it can substitute. At least until the reality that rewards my hopefulness meanders its way into the viewfinder of the periscope.
Post Script: Both Magenta Pixie and Simon Parkes released videos today which touch on the subject of hope in these times. I watched them both after writing this piece. Magenta noted that hope comes from “knowing,” which comes from the heart. Interesting coincidence.
Magenta on GAoG: https://tinyurl.com/rpb8prw