(photo P Volker)
Well, we are here. That’s pretty profound Felipé. OK, OK but we are here in this new place. Everything on the news seems new and strange. Most things in town seem new and strange. Masks and gloves and minions everywhere sanitizing everything that looks suspicious. Essential shop owners short on their skilled staff, short on products; business isn’t smooth.
Business is stressful but for the most part the home front remains calm here. I don’t know what I would do without being able to walk and work outside in nature. It is my personal joy. So for that I am thankful.
To strike a balance is the way to achieve some sanity these days. What do I have to have to keep on a even keel through this storm? This is a big question and equal in importance to the effort to keep from getting infected.
So onward we go to get to the “new normal”. Right now I’m listening with one ear to the daily homily of Governor Cuomo who seems to have a grip on the present situation and a grip on logical movement forward to the “new normal”. He’s good. If you have been hanging around Caminoheads for any amount of time you know that we have the phrase “beyond normal” which has been coined here. It means something beyond “new normal”. It means being more forward looking than that.
Well, it’s curious times here with all of us and times that require special treatment and care. But we can do this. We are smart and resilient. Our ancestors have weathered all sorts of storms and wars so we know deep down in us how to do this. Let’s get it done.
mid week, mid pandemic loves, Felipé.
You know, Phil, I’m glad you talked about the ancestors. They were tough stuff and they handed down so much if we would take their learning. One of mine crossed the Oregon Trail, lost his wife and eldest son to Cholera along the way so had to isolate themselves from the rest of the wagon party, far enough just to be seen, but could not interact. I’ve been thinking about them alot.
Hi Jessica!
So many tiny threads that connect us, and we may never be aware of! The farm I grew up on in southern Iowa had deep, ancient ruts across one of the pastures that was so steep and rough that it had never been plowed up. I spent part of every youthful day walking over those hills to bring in the milk cows for evening milking. In 8th grade, we had a mandatory course called “Iowa History”. That was when I discovered that both the Oregon Trail and the Mormon Trail passed through the township we lived in, and our farm was, in fact, part of one branch of that Trail! So, depending on where your ancestors joined the trek, they may have in fact walked across our family farm on their way to the West! Buen Camino, indeed!
Jessika ~ just wow! OK, there is a place for that in a blog post soon. Thanks, Felipé.x
Hola, Felipe! et al,
This current existence is becoming almost imperceptibly a little more Camino-like. I refer to the comforting “sameness” from day to day. I really don’t have the feeling of monotony, nor did I walking every day for 70 days in the spring of 2013. The word “comfort” really does seem to apply. In France and Spain, it was the call of the Way, starting early each day, beckoning with a new vista that I’d never seen before. A new restaurante or cafe that I’d never supped at before. Usually, the opportunity to say Bon Chemin, or Buen Camino to another Pilgrim, who, heretofore, had been a stranger that I hadn’t yet met, and who was now a Friend, a fellow Pilgrim.. And each night a new place to clean up and lie down and say a fervent Thank You God for giving this all to me, a sinner and a repentant Pilgrim.
So how can that possibly be similar to today’s life in Pandemic mode? In Europe, it was the ancient paths, where today it is the internet that now provides all those things. We can find a Mass from a different location, a different state, a different country even, every day! Different priests, bishops, even the Papa himself! We look through our electronic address book everyday and decide who we an call today that has something special going on, or has a special meaning to us, or maybe we just haven’t talked to in a long time. The Pandemic has given us that most precious of all gifts———–TIME! The recurring daily-dailies are looked forward to as well. This Blog is high on that list! My sole remaining Aunt on my dad’s side is nearing 90, and she writes a daily “letter” to as many of us family kin as have signed on to her address list. She’s usually first out of the gate, and I look eagerly for it. As she frequently states, “It’s a lot of words about not much of anything”, but it consistently reminds me of long ago days at home, and big and little family activities.
Phil’s Blog continues to amaze me with its poignant philosophy so easily presented to all of us. That slow-motion x-ray vision he applies to complicated events puts a much needed slower perspective into play. And all of us fireflies that are attracted to his glow add to the light and warmth of this priceless “Camino Connection”. Each of your personalities shows through with insightful comments, and I feel privileged to even know all of you, let alone think of you as Friends, and more importantly, Fellow Pilgrims.
Pandemically present,
Semper Fi,
PFJ
Juan ~ man, you must have a lot of time on your hands these daze. Must be the freak Spring snow storm. No, but seriously, Awesome long comment buddy. I may have to fly this from the masthead. I’m tilling up a storm here. Opened another plot so we can rotate as you suggested. Of course I’m running into a heap of buried wire fencing. Never a dull moment. Hello to the fam. Felipé.
Beyond Normal indeed. Or as Frank McCourt’s sainted Irish mother always put it, “beyond the beyonds.” Vashon, and more importantly, Phil’s Camino, seems beyond reach, now that the West Seattle Bridge is closed until 2022. What are we going to do? And how will you get to Seattle? On top of the CV, it seems so unfair. What would Ilya do?
Henriette ~ I don’t know Ilya but there is hope. I recently took a different route not involving the ill fated bridge. Look on a map. Get off I-5 at Michigan and work over to Roxbury then down to the ferry dock. We will be back in the groove before you know it. I think that we are overdue for a phone call in the mean time. Felipé.x
Phil, whoops, I meant Iliff, not Ilya. That’d be (Major) Iliff David (I. D.) Richardson, (Ens., USNR), American Guerrilla in the Philippines, who was of course the original Master of Invention, and always figured out a way in.
Let’s talk Tuesday the 21st, if that works for you. I’ll bring the stuffed olives and sangria.
Dreaming of tapas love,
Henriette Anne
Henriette ~ OK, we will do something Tuesday. And Richardson, yes, an interesting way to think about his story, The MacGyver-ness (sp?) of it all. It was not only dangerous but it was extremely innovative. He was always making something out of nothing. Yes, I see it. Thanks for the clarity. Felipé.x