And again I am looking for light, looking for some silence in the shrill hoot of foreboding and impending catastrophe. How to reconcile the two turbulences of the outer world and the inner landscape? How to find ways to feel less helpless in the face of all that is happening? How to be of use? How to assuage the guilt of not being of use?
Vaulting between the uneasy terrain of urgent requests for help on social media, information lists, opinions and situation updates is an anxious, frenetic activity, taking a toll on everybody. I try to distract myself, find routine, find the surrender of creation and sharing. I try to find life amidst all this darkness, and the kindness of others. I search fervently for things that make me feel alive again, that connect me with others, and with the world.
I try to imagine a future that has left this mess behind. I try to imagine a self that can hold both fragility and “astonishing light”.
This K. Srilata poem helps me in this imagination.
Read it. Hold it close.
