Holding Up

“Hope sleeps in our bones like a bear waiting for spring to rise and walk.”   ~Marge Piercy

People used to ask “what’s new?” or “how’s work?” or “what’s the family up to?” but this year’s standard inquiry seems to be “how are you holding up?”

I don’t know about you, but the holding and the up both are pretty tenuous. Every day seems to pose a more serious threat to democracy, the environment, to justice. This week we are breaking records for Covid-19 hospitalizations and deaths, with experts warning of a “dire winter.” I know people who are currently suffering with Covid-19. I know people who have died. I also know people who say concern over the virus is “overblown” and continue to go to the gym and to large gatherings although we’ve now hit daily death tolls exceeding those on 9/11.

Sometimes it feels like I’m polishing every splinter of hope I can find. But when I pay closer attention to what’s holding me up, I find a vast scaffolding. Here are a few rungs on this month’s ladder.

An ash tree in our yard continues to thrive despite invasive ash borers. I greet this tree every time I walk past. Like the sycamore, dogwood, hawthorn, and maple trees around our house I consider this tree a friend. It’s the first tree I see when I look out our back windows, its branches almost always full of twittering birds. I know ash trees are in serious decline. Millions of U.S. ash trees have already died due to the invasive ash borer, including hundreds of trees in the woodland part of our property. But some trees continue to thrive. They’re called “lingering ash.” Somehow these trees, untreated by insecticides, carry on. Their genes seem to resist predation. Science hopes resistant ash can perpetuate the species. This tree’s resistance to annihilation can’t help but inspire me. Let’s hope we can be the lingering best versions of our own species.

Although I’m getting less accomplished overall, I am honored to have recent work published in One Art, Feral: A Journal of Poetry & Art, Revolution Relaunch, Friend’s Journal, and Channel Magazine. I’m also surprised and honored to be one of the winners of Cultural Weekly‘s Jack Grapes Poetry Prize.

Out here, although you can’t see him, Boris the Duck and his unnamed friend paddle around in peace. Boris is flightless due to a healed broken wing. I look for him many times a day and each time his presence amplifies the peace I feel here. Whether making coffee near dawn or washing dishes near dusk, seeing Boris settles something in me.

I love teaching, even via Zoom. I never thought we could achieve a strong sense of connection by screen, but it’s possible. The magic of writing and sharing our work isn’t as high wattage as in-person classes but it’s remarkable. I come away from each class entirely nourished.

And of course there’s the new puppy. Imagine the joy Festus feels right now. Despite his considerable shortness, he discovered the magic of unrolling, carrying, and decorating. May your day hold at least that much happiness.

13 thoughts on “Holding Up

  1. Thanks for writing. I always appreciate hearing your thoughts and love seeing the skill of your writing show through as you share. Hope this is an encouragement to you as you continue in the “ holding “ pattern for a little longer.💜


    Liked by 2 people

  2. I feel remarkably hopeful. It’s the third week of Advent, a vaccine is being given to the first of the frontline workers and the most vulnerable to Covid19. You have good news even as dire predictions are made. If I have learned anything it is that life offers beauty from ashes – sorrow and joy in the same moment.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Two weeks at home, after three months in hospital and rehab. Recovering from pneumonia’s and covid. Grateful to still be alive, be with family again, and regaining strength and hope. My bear gets restless, wants to explore and straighten out it’s sleepy legs. GD gives us patience, hope, and love.

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s