Craving

I can't remember where, maybe it was in one of the Buddhism classes I took in college, I came across the idea that craving produces suffering. I found myself thinking about this today. I had just gone for a run. I don't really like running but it was one of those great runs that just flew by in a daze of deep thoughts, butterflies, and friendly waves from neighbors. I sat on the back porch to enjoy the endorphins, sunshine, lilacs, and conversation with my husband. It was a real conversation, not just “did you call the sprinkler guy?” kind of conversation. I felt good, really good. From this pleasant perspective I thought about the times I haven't felt good during this quarantine.

There are days when I miss church deeply. In a world where so many haven't set foot in a church in years I know that might sound weird. I don't mean it at all as a judgment. Church is central to my life. When we go on vacation we figure out what church we will visit while away. It is how I find my way on my journey and along that journey I have come to really love and appreciate the people I go to church with. I miss the feel of holy wafer in my mouth and the loving smiles that greet me on my way back to my seat. I am not the only person that misses church and many are anxious to get back to our space and our physical gathering (we are doing it online). It is difficult to navigate these waters of longing, uncertainty, contagious breathing and doing all we can to be part of the solution and not part of the problem.

There are days when I worry about the impact this will have on my kids. When I was a kid I ran around with a group of kids from the neighborhood for most of my summer days. I hear from the friends I made in elementary school almost every day. I so badly want my kids to be social beings and have supportive friendships, but here we are trying to find new corners of our back yard to explore. I miss my friends too. Virtual meet ups have been great but there is nothing like a deep conversation where your breathing syncs up and your eyes meet.

So many other things I miss. The longing for these things, the wishing for normalcy paired with the daily death count and stories of suffering makes for some heavy days. Sometimes I find myself googling the latest vaccine trials, newest treatment breakthroughs, and scientific projections because I need to see a light at the end of the tunnel. I crave an end to the separation, sickness, and job losses. I have found the best way to combat these cravings is to plant myself solidly in the moment. I do this by watching leaves blow or diving in to my kids' world and whatever they are doing.

Many say that we are grieving. I have certainly seen that process not just in myself but in those I work with and communicate with. But grieving is hard to explain, confusing, painful, and all over the place. I heard a beautiful testimony of grief the other day from a podcast I have come to really value. Some years ago I started listening to WTF with Marc Maron because I loved the show Maron and it had ended. I was hooked right away. He is very vulnerable, genuine and able to pull that out of the people he interviews. After a good interview I feel like I really know the person in a meaningful way.

Marc talks about his partner and how they are quarantining together; she is a famous and talented person as well. He talked about how she wasn't feeling well and on Saturday I saw the news that she died suddenly at the age of 54. My heart broke for this person that I have never met. When I saw he posted a new episode on Monday morning I immediately grabbed my headphones and listened. It was so brave and beautiful. He is devastated, sobbing and heart broken, but all he could talk about was how much he loved her and what a great person she was. He talked about memories and gratitude and learning self acceptance and how to accept love.

Grief is devastating, painful and unpredictable, but it can also open our hearts to lovely realizations, appreciation, and deep wells of strength. Any grief I feel over missing my usual routines is of course not the same as losing a loved one, but it still cracks our hearts open and can point us to ever present beauty and love. Tears can make us breathe a bit more deeply and realize that while we were afraid of falling, it was into the steady presence of our Creator and an inexhaustible supply of love.