This Sunday, I am reflecting on the potential of our casual interactions with other people. Yesterday morning in a spontaneous text, I said, " I am headed out to adventure!" Actually, I was only planning a morning neighborhood walk and possibly coffee, but at that moment, I decided to walk to the local library to get a library card. I had considered this for weeks, but buried the ideal under a pile of other tasks. Within a few minutes, I had broken through inertia, printed out the form, grabbed my ID and mask and was out the door. These walks are often a revelation--after months and months of Pandemic isolation with only family, followed by vaccine excitement and "opening back up" in spring and early summer and then an abrupt return of surges and renewed mandates, neighborhood walks have become a reality check on community spirit.
The streets were lively, with both the masked and unmasked, parents with strollers, and bicyclists. As I wove in and out of social distancing, particularly around the youngest who have yet to have vaccines, I realized that my movements and those around me, were their own form of messaging. The mask I wore said: "I take the Pandemic and community health seriously", as the walk among the shops and outdoor restaurant tables said, "I am trusting we will get through this time and there is much to enjoy even now". I felt--not thought--similar messages from those out and about. Here, all businesses very clearly require masks so conflict is usually removed in advance. It's understood that outdoor masks are optional (although recommended for the unvaccinated). The library hadn't opened, so I walked to a struggling, independent coffee shop. There, my latte and tip were another message: "your work matters and contributes to the community." I walked outdoors: "staying inside for too long increases risk". I finished the coffee in the nearby park, where masked and unmasked children played, a discussion group for young girls met in a circle, and families wandered about: "outside with others is healthier and we really are in this together." The library staff were pleased to offer a new card and eagerly explained programs and services, while a musician played a piano, and more masked children checked out books: "life and learning go on...".
As the morning unfolded, I became more and more aware of my presence and that of others as a form of affirmative prayer. Prayer is not just something you do with thoughts and words. In illness, in loss or serious trouble, just sitting supportively with someone can be prayer. It is that much more so when done with spiritual awareness. Spiritually, we are participants in collective well-being. We can lift one another or pull downward to collective despair. The human being innately reads the tone of voice, words, feeling states, movements of others and responds. In time of collective trauma and conflict, small things may not seem to matter. But healing is not miraculously instantaneous; it arises from the affirmative movements, words and respect of everyday life. Today is the day to heal. (Susan Nettleton).