Dear Friends,

“Anyone can slay a dragon, he told me, but try waking up every morning and loving the world all over again.”—American writer and artist Brian Andreas

I watched the sun rise this morning, blessed to have a flawless view from my living room window. The perfect pink halo and the striated sky of indigo, light blue, orange, and purple made me long for a good camera and a photographer’s shot-framing talents. The dark limbs and branches of many trees in the ravine cut across the sun and sky, fragmenting the view into a mosaic. That is when I noticed the gray squirrels—a pair, three, maybe more—traversing the branches. Well-fed even from a distance, they were running—playing, mating, fighting. I don’t know.

An animal behavior specialist might know what behaviors those actions signify. All I know is that the thin branches and limbs are their highways and roads, their natural homes and habitat. As I sit in my warm house, driveway shoveled and neighborhood roads cleared, I witness the proximity of my life to that of other mammals, the intersections of our lives on and over the ravine where I am, and the squirrels are, at home.

As I sit with this vision, I sit, too, with pressing weights, not only gravity and a body not made to climb far up in the trees. I share in the fears of close friends. I share in the anguish of ended or ending relationships. I share in the sorrow of mental illness. I share in the pain of imminent loss and separation. I share in the anxiety of elect-ability. I share in the outrage over corrupt leaders. I share in the shock of discrimination and oppression. I share in the uncomfortable recognition that my shock is laughable for the communities of people long discriminated against and systematically oppressed.

The view of the sun rise, the activity of the squirrels, the mosaic of life—these I need to help me bear the weight of the rest. These remind me that, so far, I have survived everyday that felt too heavy for waking, too heavy for getting on with the business of living, with giving thanks for the gift of life. May you find the solace alongside the difficulty that reminds you how to be, and that you are, resilient and sturdy, as you remember, today and every day, that you are loved, you are worthy, you are welcome, and you are needed. May you feel it so, and may it be so.

Blessings to you all, Rev. Rita