The college students have been mostly good in our town since the first weekend. There were parties. But the schools cracked down quickly and threatened to send them home. It is oddly eerie for the neighborhood to be so quiet, so much so that the autumn equinox snuck up on us. How is it fall already? We have been in some phase of lockdown for six months now.
I celebrated by finally risking a haircut, with all the proper precautions in place. There were only four of us in the entire salon. My house has ordered food in a few times but we are sure to tip very well. We’ve stopped wiping down our groceries when we get home as it was found to be unnecessary. The science around the virus keeps evolving. We are learning more about it.
The basic news still applies. Wear a mask. Wash your hands. Six feet apart. Isolate.
I check the total dead each day. I have a list of numbers. Every night at midnight I light my ancestor altar. I call on those who weathered plagues and mysterious illnesses that swept through villages and cities. I call on my foremothers and fathers who lost loved ones, and those who lost their own lives in such times. I ask them to guide the dead. I ask them to watch over the living. I ask them to wrap the world in some measure of peace.
I chant the number of souls who died that day. I chant it seven times. I wish them ease. I wish them peace. I sometimes cry for their families, for the ones who died alone. Especially for the ones who died alone. Viruses don't care about human need. I try to remember that.
It's a simple ritual. It keeps me mindful of what is happening outside of my own isolation.
In September, we lost
twenty-two thousand one-hundred and eighty-six Americans.
22,186
That's near the total
population of the city of Garden City, NY in 2010.
Since the rise of the pandemic
228,823 Americans have died of it.
Over 200,000 Americans have
died of COVID-19.
[Statistics gathered from this W.H.O. website. They
have changed as the numbers have come in, so there is some wiggle room around
the exact number.]
*
A
Contemplative Poem for the Month
[I carry your heart with me (I carry it in)]
i carry your heart with me (i carry it
in
my heart) i am never without it
(anywhere
i go you go, my dear; and whatever is
done
by only me is your doing, my darling)
i
fear
no fate (for you are my fate, my
sweet) i want
no world (for beautiful you are my
world, my true)
and it’s you are whatever a moon has
always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is
you
here is the deepest secret nobody
knows
(here is the root of the root and the
bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree
called life; which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can
hide)
and this is the wonder that’s keeping
the stars apart
i carry your heart (i carry it in my
heart)
~e.e. cummings
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