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Grounded

April 3, 2020

37 of 47

We are neither moving nor sinking. We are grounded.

Society has stopped to keep society afloat. But we are not floating. We, like sheep, do the Right Thing as we are instructed what the Right Thing to do is. Now The Right Thing changes. Daily.

It is an Apocalypse. It is God Talking. It is the fault of the Devil. It is the fault of an Evil Man. It is the fault of an Evil Country. It is the fault of a Bat Eater.

It is hard.

Because we never really had a pot of Golden Truth at the end of Life’s Rainbow. We have Fear and we have Hope. But the hard truth is Faith. Does that happen? Faith, of her sort, is in Emily Dickinson. Her words, which need absorption to refusal, are exquisite:

Those not live yet

Who doubt to live again —

“Again” is of a twice

But this — is one —

The Ship beneath the Draw

Aground — is he?

Death — so — the Hyphen of the Sea —

Deep is the Schedule

Of the Disk to be —

Costumeless Consciousness —

That is he”

We are becoming costumeless on a grounded culture. Countless have lost their life’s work. Countless more keep theirs’ and know it is their life’s work, fully endangered. We could be stripped naked, we all could, at the whim of a virus.

We were Shocked. Humored. Resolved. Afraid. Now, What?

Coping is not enough, because we know, know, that coping ends when it cannot be done. Everyone knows it. Emily knew it. “Deep is the schedule Of the Disk to be -” We are grounded, here, now, with no “to be” and coping running short of Hope.

That, to me, leaves Faith.

What we are is not we ourselves. We can not even understand it or a tiny virus and what it does to us, even though every great good thing humans can do is being done to master the un-masterable.

Because we did not make it.

Because we did not make it.

Hard truths happen when what we have set sail gets grounded. Hope is revealed to be completely unseen, unknown. That black sea, which supports us in our way, is simply unknowable below the waterline. We are grounded. They were grounded, too, 2000 years ago.

The Vessel of Righteousness was ended by the Profane. Hard. With its own Righteousness of Humanity lording in its brutality. Lent is simply pulling back and seeing that brutality of death, and seeing that one death was not death.

But is is hard to know, know, that we simply do not know anything beyond that we are grounded. Whether in pandemic or in being Kings of Our Worlds, because we did not make those worlds ourselves, or really anything beyond what we can make, ourselves.

We can build ships. But we are grounded.

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