I must admit, I’m struggling. In this time of social distancing, I—like many of you—am feeling fearful. My anxiety is often taking precedence over my sense of hope and optimism. But I’m reminded of a story Mary Pipher wrote in her book Women Rowing North:
My brother told a story about a tailor who wanted to visit the new pope. His small parish took up a collection to send him to Rome. The pope was touched by the story of the small parish and this man’s long journey. He gave the tailor a personal audience and they talked for a considerable time. When the man returned to his town, the parish had a party for him and asked him about the new pope. He had only one thing to say: “The pope wears a size forty-four medium.”
In the end, we don’t see the world as it is, but rather as we are. Let me say that again: we don’t see the world as it is, but rather as we are.
If inside we are full of anxiety and fear, we see the world as a scary place, full of people and things that are out to get us. If we can instead calm our fears and face the world with optimism, we see hope and possibility all around us.
We can see this as a time of great suffering, focusing on all that we are not able to do, trips we are not able to take, loved ones we are not able to hug. Or we can see the collective deep breath that the whole world is taking in unison. We can see people singing to each other from balconies. We can see the families in my neighborhood putting paper Easter eggs in their windows so kids on walks can do virtual Easter egg hunts. We can see families slowing down to eat meals together. We can see this as a collective agreement to do a hard thing in order to protect those who are most vulnerable.
As last year’s Spirituality in the 21st Century speaker Bayo Akomolafe says, “The times are urgent, so let us slow down.” And perhaps in slowing down, we can change the way we are looking at the world.
—Andi Lewis, Prairiewoods marketing coordinator