A season of hope
For many in the world of humans, this is a season of hope; of looking forward to the reward of eternal life; to the return of the Temple; of having the satisfaction of a life well lived, It is also a time in human history when more people than ever are coming to terms with the absurdity of this life journey; of the realization that no matter what we do or do not do as humans, a pandemic will take charge, a flood, tornado, hurricane, earthquake, a volcanic eruption or the self-centered injustice of which us humans are capable will prevent one from providing basic needs for oneself or one’s family.
During the pandemic many individual and families cleaned out closets, basements, attics, cabinets, and bookcases, hauled the stuff to thrift stores which other or even the same individuals filled up carts with new treasures. The miracles of on-line shopping in the United States is stressing the delivery systems to the breaking point. More stuff will fill homes only to be discarded at a later date.
Many are homeless or about to be homeless. Addiction continues to claim the lives of many – often young people who should be looking forward to professions, homes, and children. Many others are more directly deciding that life is not worth living and committing suicide. There seem to be fewer and fewer individuals who are fearful of the punishment of an angry god. Many are without a faith. Many bear witnesses to a faith which seeks to exclude one’s neighbor on the basis of the constructs of race, religion, sexual orientation, belief in abortion, or the refusal to believe that the one true god has chosen a people or a nation to be more deserving than others who did not construct the idols. This life journey is indeed absurd.
Perhaps a chemical imbalance, the lack of the right degree or professional license, or the absence of the modern symbols of success – the right address, clothes, car, latest smart phone, the costume which says one belongs, or the corner office – determines whether one has a reason for living; whether one has found meaning in this unpredictable, unstable, powerless existence.
In the mist of this courageous arrival to the edge of the cliff comes individuals such as the philosopher, poet, historian, Dr, Jennifer Michael Hecht. In a conversation with Krista Tippett the host of the podcast On Being, she declares “We are indebted to one another and the debt is a kind of faith – a beautiful, difficult strange faith. We believe each other into being.” This woman who knows the power of depression – the abject emptiness and aloneness of life – the absence of a god to blame or to beg for a sign of meaning - calls upon the thinking of Camus is his book-length essay, The Myth of Sisyphus in which he prescribes a way of living while acknowledging the absence of meaning. Dr. Hecht quotes the Rabbi and philosopher Maimonides who stated, “He who destroys himself destroys the world.”
Perhaps the gift of the pandemic, if we have the courage to listen and accept, is the profound reminder that we need each other; that we are all part of a whole; that what gives meaning is how we take care of each other; that education is only useful if our goal is to find ways to return to the synchronicity of all that is; that it is not about degrees, report cards, the corner office, or the success of Amazon Prime in filling the space beneath holiday trees. It is not about the neighborhood, but as Tiny Tim reminds us about home. We need and are a part of each other. As trite as it sounds together we are more. We are whole. There is no meaning in this absurd life journey. There is only this absence of Meaning - of being for and with each other.
We do not go out to dinner to support the restaurant owner or to eat a meal we might not prepare at home although that is fun. We go out to eat because we need to be around other people; we need to relax enough to be present with each other. We do not go to a movie because of the big screen although that may help us to escape for a moment. We go to a movie because we need to share with others. We do not go to church because we posit a god who is going to be unhappy if we do show up at his/her house for the Sabbath dinner. We show up because the spirit of the god of our understanding is present when we gather.
Separately we are merely a bit of dust which temporarily takes the shape of humans. Together we are as Beth Midler sings in the song written by Jeff Silbar and larry Henley, “.the wind beneath my (each other’s) wings.” Perhaps we are all the wind beneath each other’s wings. Perhaps that is the very simple reminder of living with covid-19. We need each other. We are each other.
Written December 19, 2020
Jimmy F Pickett
coachpickett.org
For many in the world of humans, this is a season of hope; of looking forward to the reward of eternal life; to the return of the Temple; of having the satisfaction of a life well lived, It is also a time in human history when more people than ever are coming to terms with the absurdity of this life journey; of the realization that no matter what we do or do not do as humans, a pandemic will take charge, a flood, tornado, hurricane, earthquake, a volcanic eruption or the self-centered injustice of which us humans are capable will prevent one from providing basic needs for oneself or one’s family.
During the pandemic many individual and families cleaned out closets, basements, attics, cabinets, and bookcases, hauled the stuff to thrift stores which other or even the same individuals filled up carts with new treasures. The miracles of on-line shopping in the United States is stressing the delivery systems to the breaking point. More stuff will fill homes only to be discarded at a later date.
Many are homeless or about to be homeless. Addiction continues to claim the lives of many – often young people who should be looking forward to professions, homes, and children. Many others are more directly deciding that life is not worth living and committing suicide. There seem to be fewer and fewer individuals who are fearful of the punishment of an angry god. Many are without a faith. Many bear witnesses to a faith which seeks to exclude one’s neighbor on the basis of the constructs of race, religion, sexual orientation, belief in abortion, or the refusal to believe that the one true god has chosen a people or a nation to be more deserving than others who did not construct the idols. This life journey is indeed absurd.
Perhaps a chemical imbalance, the lack of the right degree or professional license, or the absence of the modern symbols of success – the right address, clothes, car, latest smart phone, the costume which says one belongs, or the corner office – determines whether one has a reason for living; whether one has found meaning in this unpredictable, unstable, powerless existence.
In the mist of this courageous arrival to the edge of the cliff comes individuals such as the philosopher, poet, historian, Dr, Jennifer Michael Hecht. In a conversation with Krista Tippett the host of the podcast On Being, she declares “We are indebted to one another and the debt is a kind of faith – a beautiful, difficult strange faith. We believe each other into being.” This woman who knows the power of depression – the abject emptiness and aloneness of life – the absence of a god to blame or to beg for a sign of meaning - calls upon the thinking of Camus is his book-length essay, The Myth of Sisyphus in which he prescribes a way of living while acknowledging the absence of meaning. Dr. Hecht quotes the Rabbi and philosopher Maimonides who stated, “He who destroys himself destroys the world.”
Perhaps the gift of the pandemic, if we have the courage to listen and accept, is the profound reminder that we need each other; that we are all part of a whole; that what gives meaning is how we take care of each other; that education is only useful if our goal is to find ways to return to the synchronicity of all that is; that it is not about degrees, report cards, the corner office, or the success of Amazon Prime in filling the space beneath holiday trees. It is not about the neighborhood, but as Tiny Tim reminds us about home. We need and are a part of each other. As trite as it sounds together we are more. We are whole. There is no meaning in this absurd life journey. There is only this absence of Meaning - of being for and with each other.
We do not go out to dinner to support the restaurant owner or to eat a meal we might not prepare at home although that is fun. We go out to eat because we need to be around other people; we need to relax enough to be present with each other. We do not go to a movie because of the big screen although that may help us to escape for a moment. We go to a movie because we need to share with others. We do not go to church because we posit a god who is going to be unhappy if we do show up at his/her house for the Sabbath dinner. We show up because the spirit of the god of our understanding is present when we gather.
Separately we are merely a bit of dust which temporarily takes the shape of humans. Together we are as Beth Midler sings in the song written by Jeff Silbar and larry Henley, “.the wind beneath my (each other’s) wings.” Perhaps we are all the wind beneath each other’s wings. Perhaps that is the very simple reminder of living with covid-19. We need each other. We are each other.
Written December 19, 2020
Jimmy F Pickett
coachpickett.org
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