Letter 6
Reaching out
Dear Reader,
One wish I have as I get older seems like a strange one. Sometimes I really wish for anonymity.
It’s usually when a few other events are smashed in between other scheduled commitments. We have worked hard to try to stay local with work, school, library, most things within three or so miles. But some days I just want to close the door and shut the curtains, read a book and drink some tea. If no one knows me then the texts might stop for a bit, the world slow to whatever my own next desire might be. Perhaps then I can steady myself on this wild train ride.
And all of this is silly, really. Because I understand that decision by decision I have helped to chart the course of this crazy train ride.
For the past few weeks I have been thinking of themes to focus this letter. I thought a lot about humility (with the beginning of the Christian Lenten season). I have thought about my friends who don’t live near me but send me kind notes and words, without agenda or a need for anything, but who just want to send some friendly and supportive words, such as my good friend who keeps me in vintage post cards of Alaska
.
Perhaps the themes of anonymity, humility and true friends go all together somehow.
I do get a certain sense of anonymity on my hospital shifts. I am working as a nursing assistant as I finish my degree and I work the Float Pool, which means that every shift I show up where is needed, usually on a different floor. Each time I arrive without anyone knowing my background, my education, my socioeconomic status (except maybe being seen as skilled labor). “How is this going to go?” I think. “What kind of interaction will there be?” Inevitably there are moments of frustration of pain (for the patient), moments of condescension with my ranks in the health care corps, but also moments of grace and kindness from people who hopefully see my determined look of trying my best.
Lent is supposed to be a reflective time. It means discipline and self sacrifice to many Christians that marks Jesus spending time alone in the desert, away from others. Liturgical obligations require a “giving up” of something and forgoing meat on Friday. Faith is a private subject in my mind,. It is also a constant struggle for me to separate the goodness from the harmful piety. At a time marked for humility, humbly, I will say, that most days I struggle with making sense of things but try to always hope for the best. Some things work out better than others. Of humility, poet Mary Oliver wrote, “poems arrive ready to begin. Poets are only the transportation.”
So, not much in this letter besides a few reflections. And perhaps a request for you to remember to reach out to a few friends you think of and want to make sure to keep in your life. I have a list of people to visit, who I have not seen for years, but keep close to my thoughts (coming for you, Jacqui, Rebecca, Cris, Pam, Luu, Katy, Kay, Debbie, Mary, Janet, Donna, Aiko - and, Keith, it’s my turn to visit you in “The Last Frontier”).
And, as always, thank you for taking the time to read this letter.
Warmly,
Trac
i