There’s so much to say about the virus, it has so many dimensions. So I’ll keep it simple and share just two thoughts from today.

Earlier this evening I was speaking with a friend in Poland about how it is for her. She was telling me that if feels like the end of the life we know, the one we’ve built together, all of us, over so many years. In her inner world she’s OK she says, but when she goes out and sees the empty streets that before were full of life and people, there’s a sadness. Not a sadness for the evening but  something more. It feels like a stranger has moved into the house and the world has changed

The number of cases, the progress back and forth, the safety measures don’t interest or touch her. Something else does. She recognizes there’s a virus, is not in denial. She’s just not moved or called to what we’re doing about it. If feels like most people in her town don’t share her view and she walks alone.

She mentions Marshal Rosenberg’s story about the two wolves: There are two wolves and the one you get is the one you feed. I fear this wolf the society is feeding may devour us. I was trying to write about this wolf but I was unnerved by his stare. Luckily there’s another wolf.

This makes me think of a different animal, a beautiful tiger we’ve brought from the wild and put in a cage with a sign on the front that says Tiger. He’s alive but not living a tiger’s life. Soon he may forget the jungle.

Another Covid-related thing that happened today.

I  was on an exploratory zoom call this morning and had a sense that each of us carries hidden or taboo voices that are hard to share, but that welcoming these taboo voices, giving them room to speak if they want, is something we can do for each other. For me, I had Covid in mind. I wrote down a few lines about this then and turned them into a little poem just now, after the talk with my Polish friend that echoed the theme. A lot of things echo that theme at present. It’s like the stranger in the house, there when I go in the house. He and I have to have a talk. .

If you’re interested in joining a zoom call to explore the virus personally or experientially (or perhaps the challenging time since they’re likely related), respond to this email and I’ll send you an invitation with some times.

Take good care,

and here’s that little poem.

The Hidden Voice

I welcome you speaking the voice
they put the taboo on.
I’m thrilled when I hear you speak the voice
that might cast you into the darkness.

Some nights I wonder, do we all feel this?
Do we all long to go together
down and down in the dark on a narrow trail?

Down in that darkness
the Taboos are there and look up
from the dishes,
astonished to see us finally coming
single file down the path to meet them.

One of them said they’d been waiting
a long time.