Yearnings

Quarantine has been a gift. Time is one dimension of that gift. Space is another. Focus yet another.

Yearnings emerge from this gift. Aches for something – perhaps something from the past that was deeply enjoyed, or maybe a new thing that wants exploring, or the ache to develop a skill and talent others have and I don’t.

Singing is one. The act of creating a pleasant sound is a reward unto itself. But internally the sound wells up through bone, sinew and thought. It rumbles, vibrates and tugs at the heart. It soars to speak through sound of feelings. Emotions niggled to expression full and real.

Seeing the Grand Canyon again is another yearning. And Glacier National Park. The soaring peaks of the Tetons in Wyoming. The vast openness of New Mexico, northern Arizona, too. The smell of the dessert in dry and wet moments. The array of aromas that memory conjures is amazing!

Witnessing a concert, a symphony, a trained chorus, an opera, oratorio, whatever. Music in full glory expressing  humankind’s story of existence on our planet. Yes, that is a frequent yearning.

Reading a novel that pulls me into full response to the human condition. I’ve read many such, but finding new ones becomes more difficult. Is this a sign the world is changing? Or am I changing, or stuck in neutral?

Watching the evening news – or throughout the day on cable channels! – I see what passes as news without normative threads that lead us toward new equilibria. Where is our story taking us? Who is in control of this? Do we want this impelling rhythm into the future to continue on its current route? 

Really? If not, what then do we do? I yearn for clarity here. Don’t you?

Short post today. The yearnings made me write this. They needed air.

July 24, 2020