Where I live, I can stand on a bridge or sit by the shore, and watch the changes as the tide turns in Richardson Bay.  It’s not a simple, polite exchange. Oh, yes, now let’s go this way and not that.  You go first.  I’ll wait.

Instead, there’s a swirl and circling I might view as confusion and uncertainty.  What, oh, the moon is pulling us this way and not that.  Okay, don’t shove; let’s turn, but not rigidly, not marching left, right; let’s pause, then, circle a bit to navigate the change.  

I sit here this morning trying to expand around all that’s going on. I’m circling, trying to navigate change and grief, anger, sorrow, fear, knowing that ultimately all is love.

Where I live there are two ways to drive to the ocean.  One is a series of curves that makes some people sick, and the other is a rather straight route through a variety of towns that become smaller and smaller as the road heads west.  

That road, a major east-west connector in the county, is called Sir Francis Drake.  

There’s now an outcry to change the name of the street.  Until recently, I didn’t know that Sir Francis Drake began his career as a slave trader. I knew he was a pirate but hadn’t considered that he traded in human lives.

In addition to the name of the road, in 1990, a huge 30-foot tall, steel sculpture of Sir Francis Drake was placed next to the Larkspur Ferry Terminal. Now, people want it gone.

At first in the overwhelm I often feel these days, I thought it was hardly the biggest issue of the time but now I see that yes, we must do everything we can to show we’re paying attention to the changes that show that Black Lives Matter.  

I just finished reading the book Troop 6000 by Nikita Stewart.  It, too, is an eye opener as it deals with the problem of homelessness in NYC.  

Reading this book, I have great respect for Mayor de Blasio and what he is doing to deal with what seems like an insurmountable problem.  

I’m also in awe of the woman who with courage, determination, and the help and support of others set up Girl Scout troops in shelters in NYC.  Her work changes lives.

One person can make a difference.  We know that but this book is an honest accounting of the work in change. 

And now for me, there is the more immediate question of social distancing.  My family and close friends are still choosing to honor it, so I wait to hug my children and grandchild. 

I’ve been through physical pain, and I want to wait a little longer before I expose myself, or those I love, or those I come in contact with, with something that still seems scientifically illusive. I also understand this is a mental health issue. When does the economy, social interaction and touch become more important than anything else?

For now, my family is in agreement, and perhaps my wider family too as my little bird friend still sits on her nest.  She brings me trust and peace.  

Burning to See

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