I was fascinated to see the pictures from the Wapusk park explore.org cams this week that included capturing caribou as they wander about on the shores of Hudson Bay. In large part that's because, while the shots show snow beginning to vanish there, it's well over 85F here. And even though I know it's going to be summer soon, the heat wave was an unwelcome reminder of a summer like no other courtesy of the pandemic. I was quickly drawn to the down side - no pool, no picnics, no family firework gathering, perhaps hardest of all - no travel.
It seems that all of us are going through the collective stages of grief in our own ways. For me, following the Kübler-Ross continuum, I skipped over denial, moved direct to unfocused anger, and I thought I'd managed to avoid bargaining. Well, for the most part. I suppose it's still bargaining if you plead internally, "Please don't let me get Covid if I break down and get an ice cream cone from our local sweet shop on a rare get-away-from-home outing." But this past week, perhaps from the increased heat, I found it harder to avoid depression..and I know I'm a long way from acceptance.
I focused on my shift at Explore.org with the polar bears and my new shift, now that cameras are up, following the returning puffins to Seal Island, ME. Their return reminded me that the world often works in cyclical waves - seasons, migrations, the very stuff of life and death. I was reminded of my mom's frequent mutter, "This too shall pass." Sura chilling at Ouwehand Zoo, 2020.
Having gone through similar grief stages before I also realize that it's a time when I need to buckle down, harder, on what I said I was committed to before - my writing and my weaving taking top priority. I have been editing my manuscript more (hurrah!) and, this past week, I did pull off some amazing things from the loom.
Amazing for me - particularly when I remember that only 2 short months ago, I was hoping I'd get back to weaving post-surgery. To be on the loom daily now, learning and growing with each step, is a gift. I know it is.
So we move forward...looking forward to the acceptance stage in a new normal. I know it will be awhile before it comes. I need to remember it's a great time to plan, to dream, to read. To get outside and absorb the beauty that's all around us or the wonder of small things - a bird that lands in the yard, a toad that hops out between the cracks in the sidewalk. Namaste.