Eyes above the treeline, I measure my breath with each step on the concrete. When I look down at my feet, I’m too focused on where I am, not where I am going, where I’m supposed to be. The air in my lungs lunge out of me like exhaust. I trust my blood running and flowing like my desire to cross the imaginary finish line of the next traffic light. I am astonished at the way the body moves and how each day I show up for myself, I continue the marathon of being alive.
Try not to panic when you hear the word pandemic Or at least, try not to think of panic. The connotation of that word like an incantation I cannot escape. How much time has passed since the last time you were afraid? I watched the whole world spend a year in fear and fighting to stay alive. What will I say of this time? This morning, I drove south through a grey sky to take my wife to her second vaccine appointment. Listening to NPR, we hear a story about gospel soul singer Elizabeth King, who started singing again after she survived a drunk driving car accident She sang the songs her mother sang to her songs left behind before her long journey home back to God. The music of her voice harmonized with the sound of morning rain. Looking ahead, I listen with both hands on the steering wheel, the gold wedding band on my finger shines brighter than the sun. I’m in love with right now with nothing left to fear.