I have been staring at this every day for weeks on the Maine Unemployment website:
'If you are self-employed or have exhausted all available benefits, please wait to file. Federal benefits are NOT yet available, but they are coming.'
For weeks.
Don't know where the lifeboats are.
Don't know where the FEMA trailers are.
But this is not going well.
Senator King?
Senator Collins?
Representative Pingree? Golden?
Anyone?
Untethered
Dear Anonymous,
Socks and coffee cards.
More valuable than ever.
No where to land during the day.
Few bathrooms.
Some of our most vulnerable.
The conspiracy theories abound.
There is confusion.
Difficult to get assistance.
Offices and services on skeleton crews.
How do we treat the most vulnerable?
And how do we treat those on the front line of this risk?
How do we treat the person 8 feet away with a mask and furrowed brow appearing as if they are being stalked and you might be the stalker?
How do we open a heart when a mind has put on chainmail?
Ya' know old trees just grow stronger
And old rivers grow wilder ev'ry day
Old people just grow lonesome
Waiting for someone to say 'Hello in there, hello'
-John Prine
Contact our elders.
Unlike any other
Here's the scoop on fresh fish Portland, Maine. TODAY. 11:00 AM- 4:00PM at 430 Commercial Street.
Fresh Haddock, cod, greysole, dabs, monktails, hake and redfish. You will never have fresher unless you go out yourself.
Please see Facebook page MAINE FISHERIES for more.
This is Ian Mayo, the man behind the fish, at a SUPPORT THE WORKING WATERFRONT event a year or so ago. : )
Please see MAINECOASTFISHERMEN.ORG for a more complete listing of resources. Being updated constantly by Monique Coombs.
Like two thoughts snuggled together. No social distancing required.
Thank you Starbuck's Commercial Street!
The boats are out. Many resources for fresh seafood in these times. Direct from the boat to you. Often including socially distant delivery.
SEE MAINECOASTFISHERMEN.ORG for a listing of resources available.
I think there may be more walking the plank than usual.
Down to the bones. From 6 feet away he looks up from beneath his hood. He hesitates and says 'I am retiring.' And I will not know exactly what this means. He is despondent and in pain and I believe he has been walking all night. No where to rest his damaged back. The whys and what if's of this have no bearing in this moment. His face haunts me. Mouth hung open. He is despair on legs. He is close to god, whatever that really means, and he walks off.
Signs of the Time. Thank you to all the health workers, and the essential janitorial crews, the food preparation folks, the trash teams. Thank you.
This was seen in Falmouth at Falmouth By the Sea, an elderly care and rehabilitation facility.
So 2020. Pandemic of trash meets another.
They said 'Protect yourself'.
Can I really complain about my peeling paint? Criticize my dusty and grimy baseboards? Can I really get aggravated that my kitchen set up is a bit less practical than a ships' mess?
No. Not now. I find myself bowing on my knees to this stained floor. This room with dirty windows. These less than perfectly insulated walls. The uneven linoleum. The scarred window casings. I beg their forgiveness.
Shelter in place. When you have a place... is luxury.
It is not like being in solitary. Ask anyone who HAS been in solitary.
There is a spiritual practice of not complaining. NOT complaining either outwardly or inwardly. Watch yourself and your mind's travails. Put a stop sign up when that complaint comes up. Take a different turn. Try it for 24 hours. 24 minutes. Try it for 24 seconds. Worth the try.
From a distance honoring 6'+social distance one of our street friends said: 'I rode my bike downtown Friday afternoon. Normally I am cursing all the people, the cars, the busyness. Friday there was no one here. No cars. A ghost town ...and I cried. I felt like the last man standing....'
See also: https://www.joannearnold.com/posts/have-you-heard-sheltering-in-place-referred-to-as-solitary-might-want-to-read-this
The Age of Spiritual Intimacy in the Age of Social Distancing. Left to our own devices. That could go poorly. That could go really well.
The luxury of sheltering in place. The luxury of staying at home. The luxury of having food delivered. The luxury.
This is a parking lot I sort of adopt in terms of stewardship...removing bags and bags of trash from it year round. A saint like friend even arrived to remove a couch and overstuffed arm chair someone had tossed over the river bank last year. It is now a Covid19 Testing Site for Martin's Point Health.
This morning I see all the signs. The directions. Stop. Go. Keep right. Do not enter.
I gaze at the river with the tide rising and listen to the wind howling.
Even the elephants in the room wore masks.
It was dreary this morning. Heavy. Grey. Chilly.
Stopped by Skillin's Greenhouse parking lot and was revived by their collection of spring bulbs racing toward their spring blossom.
Skillin's is open for curbside pick up. If my pockets were deeper I would have purchased the entire stock to surround myself with these beauties. And hand them out on people's doorsteps like candy. Place them outside the windows of those that cannot leave.
They are great folks at Skillin's who will help with your orders.
Imagine. Seeds and seed starting materials. Spring bulbs ready to blossom and more. See their facebook page for more details.
https://www.facebook.com/SkillinsGreenhouses/
"When clinging to security and comfort and warding off pain become the focus of our lives, we don't end up feeling cared for and we certainly don't feel motivated to extend ourselves to others. We end up feeling more threatened or irritable...."
-Pema Chodron
Amen, Pema, amen.
Forsythia courtesy of Skillin's Greenhouse, Falmouth.
I remember when I had three young children. I relied on the morning sessions at nursery school and montesorri school for my sanity. Just sayin'. I needed that head space to carry on as a good mom. Likely my children needed the same. I also know it is a privilege to afford child care in this country and I don't know how young families manage. And now with the pandemic to boot. Hang in there young moms and dads. If you are worried about what your children reveal to their psychiatrists later on it just may be some tender recollection of when their mom and dad read that story at bedtime or when they saw you comforting one another.
This was seen this morning in Falmouth, Maine.