The Gift of Symbols

Spiritual Touchstone:

Happy Spring Equinox! Also, with Holy Week on the horizon and Easter on the way, what signs, symbols or rituals draw you more deeply toward your spiritual core? And if the Jesus story isn’t your path, what do you appreciate about the story of Jesus and what makes you annoyed? May everyone be blessed!

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The Gift of Symbols

By Rev. Dr. Melinda V. McLain

Even though I work with signs and symbols all the time as a spiritual leader, I had no idea that such interests could fuel the plot of an action-packed thriller until I first read Dan Brown’s “The DaVinci Code”.

While some of Brown’s surmises about the faith are better kept in the fiction aisle, it was thrilling to have someone tell the stories about Jesus and Mary Magdalene with the excitement normally allotted to a James Bond plot.

Outside of Dan Brown’s world, most of us who ponder the final week of Jesus’ life and death by crucifixion by the Roman empire are more likely to wonder if this year we’ll have some new insight or realization that will make this week actually feel “holy”. And, as an ordained minister for over 27 years, I admit that I often feel more obligated than action-movie thrilled to begin another Holy Week.

But this year, our joint UCC Good Friday service will include the making of black origami cranes as part of the Birds of Gaza remembrance project for all the children killed during the current conflict in Israel/Palestine.

Just seeing one of those little black origami “peace” cranes that a colleague is making, reminded me that symbols can sometimes lead us to deep places. Each crane is being folded to remember one child killed in the war.

Very quickly, as the origami cranes multiplied in my mind to include all children, and then all people, animals, and habitats destroyed by wars and human violence, I was suddenly able to see how this coming “holy” week offers the opportunity to recommit to the path of peace more deeply and without reservation.

May all beings seek peace during this Holy Week and beyond.

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All are welcome in person and online at our Joint UCC Good Friday service at Orinda Community Church at 7p, Friday, March 29, 2024. We’d also be happy to welcome you to our Good Table UCC Easter Sunday Gathering on March 31 at 12n in person at 780 Ashbury Avenue in El Cerrito, CA 94530 or online via zoom. Festive Easter bonnets are encouraged!

Spiritual Touchstone:

Spiritual Practice and the Arts
By Rev. Dr. Melinda V. McLain

“Art enables us to find ourselves and lose ourselves at the same time.”
—Thomas Merton, Trappist monk and author (1915-1968)

Having just returned from our annual opera-cation in Santa Fe, New Mexico, I’ve been thinking about the art and life of the great painter Georgia O’Keefe.  Although her art is classified as modern and abstract, her paintings have always seemed quite realistic to me because I have spent a lot of time in the high deserts where she painted things pretty much the way they actually look, albeit she paints them from her own unique perspective.  For her flowers, she zooms in on the minute details, while her landscapes are sweeping vistas replete with the amazing colors of New Mexico.  But if you take the time to visit these places and pay attention, you too can see what she saw in a given place.

Being able to recognize that everything can be seen or experienced in a new or different way is a great gift from the practice of making art to our spiritual practice. Making and/or seeing art can also help us to exercise our ability to see and perceive the world in a new way.

We all have the ability to perceive the same things quite differently once we take into account the way our experiences, education, and current life situation affect our ability to make sense of the world.  This is a wonderful gift AND it can be a source of difficulty in a diverse community.  The difficulty comes when any one of us simply assumes that others share our same point of view or worse yet that our point of view is exclusively correct.

Recognizing that a flower can be experienced differently and/or seen differently is a good way to correct our sense that “my way” is the only way. This understanding can then be applied to disagreements between people and can become the basis for expanding our empathy - the willingness to recognize the point of view of someone else.

Do you enjoy looking at art? Have you ever felt your heart stirred by a particular painting or sculpture? How does the experience of making or seeing art affect your spirituality?

by Rev. Dr. Melinda V. McLain

“Isolation” by Fabio Barbato

Spiritual Touchstone

During my 25+ years as a pastor, one of the most common worries I hear from parents with regard to their children (no matter what age!) is about friendship. Will my child make friends? Will those friends be a good influence? And, of course, what can I do as a parent to help my child make good friends?

There are no easy strategies for parents confronting this problem on behalf of their children. And the problem of loneliness and a lack of friends is certainly not limited to children. We recently learned from The Book of Joy: Lasting Happiness in a Changing World, the book our Mindfulness Circle is reading that at least 10% of Americans say that they don’t have any close friends at all.

Not surprisingly, as we move into the third year of a global pandemic, loneliness appears to be on the rise. A new report from Harvard states that: “36% of all Americans—including 61% of young adults (18-25) and 51% of mothers with young children—feel ‘serious loneliness’.” And not surprisingly, loneliness appears to have increased substantially since the outbreak of the global pandemic, although a U.S. Department of Health and Human Services study in 2019 found that at least 1 in 5 Americans reported feeling lonely or socially isolated.

Rising loneliness and social isolation are serious health problems with real world consequences. Human beings are social animals like all primates, and we are meant to be in relationship. But somehow, we’ve lost the art of being in community. It might be that we honor rugged individualism too much. Or that we are distracted by media and technology. Or it could be that we’ve just forgotten (or never really learned) how important it is to take time for friendship and to be in community.

The Harvard report suggest three immediate strategies including “raising awareness”, such this blog post or by simply thinking about your friendships or lack thereof. Their second recommendation is to “increase and improve our social infrastructure”. The Good Table is designed to do that for folks in El Sobrante, but we can all take advantage of existing social infrastructure such as volunteering with a local organization or becoming part of a spiritual community such as a temple, gurdwara, church, mosque or synagogue. And the third recommendation is to work “to restore our commitments to each other and the common good”.

From a spiritual perspective, the best antidote to loneliness is to develop a warm and compassionate heart toward others. There are many meditation and prayer practices that can help anyone to become more aware and connected to one another. These practices also help us turn away from focusing on our problems and become more compassionate. This “turning” then helps us to make new friends and strengthen our existing community connections.

My own view is that the fastest way to decrease our own loneliness and self-centeredness is to actively choose to becoming a helper and volunteer. This can be hard for young adults and parents trying to juggle a challenging schedule, but the results can be miraculous.

Try doing one new thing “out in the world” once a month such as participating in a community work day. Here in El Sobrante, there are many opportunities including our monthly “clean-up the town day” every 3rd Saturday (including this Saturday, Feb. 19) from 10a-12n (meet at the library) or come to our site (5166 Sobrante Avenue) on the last Saturday (Feb. 26) from 12n-3p.

Here is some final wisdom to ponder from Archbishop Desmond Tutu on the subject of loneliness.

“Much depends on your attitude. If you are filled with negative judgment and anger, then you will feel separate from other people. You will feel lonely. But if you have an open heart and are filled with trust and friendship, even if you are physically alone, even living a hermit’s life, you will never feel lonely.”

— Archbishop Desmond Tutu

May we all find happiness and friendship.

by Kelly Knight, Marketing Manager for The Good Table

Plum blossom season!

Spiritual Touchstone

Depending on where you live, it may be the first breath of spring. Where we are, in the East Bay, it’s been in the windy, sunny 70s the last week — nearly summer. (Thanks global warming. Okay not really, rain please?) In any case, it’s a good time of year to fertilize your garden. If you’d like a primer on how to fertilize, here you go: Garden Fertilizer Basics

To be honest, fertilizing intimidates me. I have this weird aversion to it. I wasn’t really sure why; it is, after all, good for the plants, good for the ecosystem. I know I should be fertilizing my own garden, but I can’t seem to drum up any enthusiasm for it, when really all it is is feeding your plants.

And then I realized: I am terrible at remembering to feed myself, so why should it be any different for my plants?

My life is really busy — I have two kids, work, friends, community. It feels like everyone needs something from me all the time. If the kids aren’t shouting, the cats are. And if everyone’s quiet, a friend is texting or my mom is calling. I love my community, but wow, does it consume my time and resources. As a consequence of that, self care can sometimes (often) go out the window.

The old adage of “Put your own mask on first” comes up a lot for me, but it feels trite when so many other peoples’ needs are greater than mine. My therapist admonished me this week though and reminded me that if I burn out, I’m actually going to be less available, less able to care for those who need it. So the question becomes: what next?

“How can we fertilize our own experience so that our future becomes sustainable?”

How do we take care of ourselves so that we can continue to sustainably show up for our communities?

For me, that looks like:

• Saying no a lot more often. I am quick to raise my hand for things, without thinking about the true cost associated with it. I need to carefully tend my own resources with an eye to sustainability.

• Rest. I often get frustrated when I want to just nap or read or watch something of no substance, but those activities replenish me.

• Spend my time with folks that uplift me, rather than drain me. Everyone’s going through it and certainly, I want to be helpful to people I care about, but I can’t continue to have folks suck me dry with their unmanaged drama.

“What does fertilizing your future look like? How will you tend to your garden of self in 2022?”

by Kelly Knight, Marketing Manager for The Good Table

“I would maintain that thanks are the highest form of thought, and that gratitude is happiness doubled by wonder.”

— G.K. Chesterton

Spiritual Touchstone

I’ve been thinking about this quote a lot, about the space that gratitude and wonder take up in my life. Last year, it was pretty hard to be grateful about anything. Even now, I struggle with feeling good about Thanksgiving, given its highly problematic origins.

That said, I think gratitude as a daily practice is highly undervalued. People who practice gratitude are happier than those who do not. Gratitude does a couple of things: it helps you focus less on the bad things that are happening, and more on the good ones. With time, it also conditions you to be more sensitive to seeing and appreciating the goodness in your life.

Now I recognize that there’s privilege in that — there may not be a lot of good happening in your life right now. Maybe you feel isolated, or lonely, or sad. Maybe your financial circumstances aren’t the best right now, or familial or friend relationships are strained. But here a couple things I’m going to offer you that maybe we can all be grateful for right now, despite our individual circumstances:

1. Rain came earlier this year. The October rains ended fire season a lot earlier than in years past, and we’re all breathing demonstrably cleaner air.

2. Vaccines are slowly rolling out across the world. My kid got her first shot last week, and that felt like hope.

So even in the midst of things being tough, I’m grateful for these things. There’s so much work to do in the world, and that feels overwhelming and hard more often than it doesn’t, but I’m holding on to hope and gratitude to help me get by.

I wish you all a wonderful holiday season. And if you have the funds, please consider donating to some indigenous-led organizations, like these:

Sogorea Te' Land Trust is an urban Indigenous women-led land trust that facilitates the return of Indigenous land to Indigenous people.

Native American Advised Endowment Fund enhances Native lifeways now and for future generations in New Mexico by promoting a spirit of sharing and supporting community initiatives. The Fund supports efforts that emphasize the commitment to Native core values: community, language, culture, and environment.

by Rev. Dr. Melinda V. McLain

Spiritual Touchstone

“We plan, God laughs. ”

— Yiddish proverb (Psalm 33:10)


Maybe it is my Presbyterian upbringing, but I really like having a plan and a detailed schedule. I know some folks might be surprised by this given that I have been known in many circles for my improvisational skills and my delight for spontaneity, but it is true: even when improvising, I like to have a plan. And I always like to do unpleasant things first, so I can have more time to enjoy good things. As a teenager, I always did my homework first, so I would have the rest of the evening to spend freely. Not a bad habit to have developed and it has served me well in a number of ways!

This love of being organized has been with me as long as I can remember. When I was in my 20s, some friends found it so annoying that one of my classmates in college took my watch away from me and wouldn't let me wear it for two days. I thought I might die during those 48 hours. Now, with all my integrated gadgets, it would take WAY MORE than stealing my watch for me to let go of time and trying to stay on my plan: I have SIRI to defend me!

On the other hand, I have learned that having a plan and being prepared only helps with the small things in life like paying bills, doing projects, and meeting work deadlines. Truly, there is no way to actually prepare and plan for much of what really matters in life such as the grief of losing a beloved, a serious illness, wildfire season, or a global pandemic. Sure, we can make “go bags” and disaster kits, and  prepare financially with insurance and thoughtful estate planning, but that only handles the "business" of life, not the living of it.

Grief, in particular, even when you see it on the horizon through a diagnosis or the simple progression of aging, cannot be "done" in advance and you cannot plan for its effects. It sneaks up on you and takes hold of your heart and soul until you pay attention and confront the reality of the loss. Unfortunately for those of us who like plans, grief is a real plan wrecker. And whether or not COVID directly took the life of someone you love, we are all grieving in one way or another.

While a worldwide pandemic was certainly a possibility that public health professionals knew might happen, most, if not all of us were completely unprepared and had no plan for what unfolded in March 2020. I had thought about the possibility of “virtual church” while studying from my D.Min., but then suddenly we had to do it - next Sunday! And, of course, we did create a Zoom version of our service of music, prayer, and preaching that was different from our in-person gathering and yet, provided a genuine and life-giving connection to spiritual community during a time when we all felt more worried and isolated than usual. And our community has been blessed by participants from as far away as British Columbia and Texas - something that didn’t happen before that I do not want to lose when we go back to gathering in person on July 4th!

Our virtual sanctuary at home

It’s also humbling to begin construction on our new project and watch all of our planning shift and adjust to new realities such as skyrocketing materials prices while also becoming excited that someday, we might be able to actually open our cafe, nursery, and gathering space. And yet, we still don’t know when the renovation will be complete, but at least we’re moving forward after being stalled for many months.

Finally, as vaccination rates continue to rise and COVID cases fall, we are now beginning to meet again in person and resume activities in community that were unavailable during the pandemic. But I admit, I don’t have much of a plan yet for this new phase of living. I do know that it isn’t possible to just go back to the way things were. Too much has changed. And I want to find ways to integrate the lessons of the last fifteen months to make my life and our communities better. And because I’m a planner type, I want to be intentional about those changes, but I also recognize - another gift of the pandemic - that all of our plans need to be flexible because the only thing you can be certain about is that everything will change.

Do you like to plan? What do you do when your plans fall apart? What spiritual practices are helpful when things don't go the way you expected?

By Rev. Dr. Melinda V. McLain

Spiritual Touchstone

“Only when we are no longer afraid do we begin to live.”

— Dorothy Thompson, legendary American journalist, (1893-1961)

Reverend Melinda in an amazing Easter ensemble

One of my more crusty professors in seminary once said, “I can cope with Santa Claus, but the Easter Bunny ought to be obliterated”. He was correct that Santa is at least based somewhat upon the life of St. Nicholas who was known for giving gifts in secret. But the origin of a bunny (or perhaps a hermaphroditic hare) bringing eggs as gifts to children is fuzzier and contains quite a few odd elements that would appear to have very little to do with the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus, the Christ. Also, I am pretty certain that no one in first century Palestine had access to chocolate of any kind.

Personally, I love the rabbits, peeps, and eggs associated with Easter. As a child, I wasn’t too fond of the Easter “outfits”, but I did like coloring eggs and then finding them. Also, I still enjoy singing the loud “alleluia” songs. And there have been times when I was singing in a church that had a big pipe organ that Easter meant singing ear-splitting anthems accompanied by brass - another fun thing to do! Easter for many folks really is a lot of fun and festive hoopla!

But I also understand my professor’s problem with all this Easter hullabaloo. Such celebrations don’t quite connect with the high drama of the story of Jesus. Nor does it resemble the saga of the horribly frightened disciples who spent much of the first year following the crucifixion of Jesus in hiding or facing various forms of gruesome persecution by the Roman empire. Their well-documented travails with Roman imperial power make it clear that their movement was explicitly designed to resist the religion of empire even if - just like Jesus - it cost them their lives.

Next week is Holy Week, when those of us on the Jesus path will retell the stories of that ragtag movement of folks determined to proclaim good news to the poor, the oppressed, and those suffering injustice. But beyond telling those stories, many of us will seek ways to embody their fearlessness - even in the face of a culture that thinks it foolish to live our lives in service to others.

When Easter Sunday comes this year on April 4th, I plan to sing a few “alleluias”, but if the real power of resurrection happens for me, it will be in the form of a recommitment to the prophet Micah’s call to “seek justice, love mercy, and to walk humbly (like Jesus) with God” even when I’m afraid, confused, or just simply don’t feel like it.

My UCC colleague and dear friend the Rev. Donna Schaper, in her wonderful “gardening” book Calmly Plotting the Resurrection has written, “resurrection is rarely complete. We are still on our way. Easter week will come and go, and some of us will rise all the way to our forgiven selves, and all the way up to our capacity to forgive others. Some of us won’t. God help us to rise.”

Let us rise!

by Kelly Knight, Marketing Manager for The Good Table

Spiritual Touchstone

It’s winter, and while I’ve been appreciating the recent rain, I also can’t get fire season off my mind. This year’s fire season was the worst on record in many places, and caused trauma for a lot of us. The destruction and anxiety rests heavy for me, at a time when I should be looking forward to spring, growth, and new beginnings.

That being said, California’s ecosystem has a relationship with regular fire. Many of our trees have adapted to a consistent fire pattern, known as a “fire regime.” My college biology professor often spoke fondly of the Ponderosa Pine, a tree with a thick and latticed bark that easily withstands a low intensity fire.

This poster by Nina Montenegro has been on my mind a lot lately:

Image by Nina Montenegro, of The Far Woods

Some seeds only germinate when exposed to fire. That seems so crazy, but it’s true.

“...the actual seeds of many plants in fire-prone environments need fire, directly or indirectly, to germinate. These plants produce seeds with a tough coating that can lay dormant, awaiting a fire, for several years. Whether it is the intense heat of the fire, exposure to chemicals from smoke or exposure to nutrients in the ground after fire, these seeds depend on fire to break their dormancy. ”

— Your National Forests Magazine

It got me thinking about how fire in a spiritual context is often thought of as purification. When a fire sweeps through the land, it burns up all the dead undergrowth, purifying the landscape. In an environment that has adapted to fire, it can be a regular and natural cleansing process.

What seeds have germinated for us in the fire of 2020? In my life, I’ve definitely felt “fired up” to go deeper into activism, into my own commitment to social justice and compassion. I think some of us may have been dormant in different ways for a very long time, but the events of 2020 showed us that we can’t afford to be asleep to the realities of racism, the wealth gap, healthcare access, and lack of worker protections any longer.

Certainly, we all want the world to get better. It’s been a dismal time, there’s no doubt about that. Many of us are suffering in the wake of the pandemic, the wildfire season, the recession, while under the emotional and mental load of waiting for a vaccine.

But maybe, if we can find a little room, a little grace, the fire may have ignited that seed and something new and precious is coming. Maybe we’re kinder, more compassionate, more aware, more patient, more neighborly than we were before. Perhaps the fire burned up our pettiness, our cowardice, our willingness to look the other way when bad things happen to folks in our communities. It certainly seems evident that enough people were tired of the horrible mismanagement of the pandemic by former President Trump (as well as his corruption, greed, and narcissism) to vote him out, and for that, I am very grateful.

What other blessings have been germinating in your life? What other seeds will you plant?

I wish for you the seeds of peace, comfort, and compassion. May we all be healthy. May we all be safe. May we all be loved. And may we all find purpose as we work for a better society with equitable access to all of these things.

by Rev. Dr. Melinda V. McLain, pastor for The Good Table UCC

Image Credit: Live Japan

“Five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes.
How do you measure a year in a life? How about love?”

— Jonathan Larson in the song “Seasons of Love” from the musical Rent

Spiritual Touchstone

We’ve just passed the first anniversary of the first case of the novel coronavirus reaching the United States. But for me, the global pandemic truly “began” with our initial statewide lockdown on March 15, 2020 that also coincided with the liturgical season of Lent - a time when those of us on the Jesus path reflect on our mortality and humanity. At the time, I don’t think any of us could imagine all that would transpire in our world between then and now, but while the death and economic destruction has been devastating for millions, we have also been able to move forward on our project to create The Good Table and as a church, we’ve also been able to keep serving our communities with love. And not just love in the form of kindness, but in the form of measurable assistance to our neighbors in need.

Our Lent last year included the launch of a campaign by a group of United Church of Christ (UCC) local churches to erase all the available medical debt in Contra Costa and Alameda counties as part of our joint Good Friday service. We weren’t able to gather last Good Friday in person AND it took us a bit longer to finish the campaign, but with help from the national UCC, at its conclusion, our 2020 campaign erased $5,473,959.51 in medical debt for 2,604 families in 34 counties in California including $3 million in debt for over 1,000 families in Contra Costa and Alameda counties. I have no doubt that this campaign made a big difference to those families.

This year Lent begins on February 17th with Ash Wednesday. In previous years, we have had a joint contemplative prayer service with Taizé chants and the imposition of ashes with Christ Lutheran, El Cerrito. Two years ago our joint service also included Hope Lutheran, El Sobrante who also hosted a daytime service and we began our “Ashes on the Go” outreach during rush hour at Del Norte BART along with colleagues from Arlington UCC, Kensington. Last year, both the Japanese and English language congregations from Sycamore UCC, El Cerrito joined us at BART and for the evening service. In some ways, last year’s Ash Wednesday on Feb. 26th felt like the last time that any of us could do “public” ministry. And I know for sure that it was the last time that any of us were able to share a hug or hold hands while praying together.

With our UCC siblings, we plan to take on another Lenten love project this year called the Black Homeownership Fund (BHF) sponsored by Arlington UCC, Kensington and housed at the Richmond Community Foundation. The BHF would create a zero-percent-interest loan fund, to be paid back only when the home is refinanced or sold. This is especially helpful for providing assistance with the super high down payments needed to get into the Bay Area’s high-priced housing market.

We still have many months to go before we will be able to gather in person again. And it will be many months before our renovation of our site is complete. The death toll due to the pandemic will continue to rise and the economic crisis is far from hitting bottom, although the advent of vaccines and more economic stimulus may begin to slow the devastation soon.

And yet, we still have a lot of capacity for love in the form of caring, but also concrete and tangible assistance for our neighbors.

What gifts of love have you received during this time of pandemic and stress? What gifts did you give? What can we do to continue to increase love in our communities?

by Rev. Dr. Melinda V. McLain

Image of Native Ohlone

Spiritual Touchstone

There was a time when all the creeks flowing into the San Francisco Bay were free. Native Ohlone people fished in them for what must have seemed like an endless supply of salmon and other fish. When the Russians, the Spanish, and people from all over the world arrived in this place, things began to change. The Ohlones were either murdered, displaced, or removed and the creeks and streams were fished without limit. Finally, during the Gold Rush, mining companies flushed enormous quantities of toxic chemicals, especially mercury from the gold fields, through the watersheds into local creeks, ending up in the San Francisco Bay.

Today there are no salmon spawning in the creeks leading to the Bay, and the coastal creek salmon populations in Northern California are at 1% of historic levels. Another lingering effect from the mercury pollution is that dams built on local creeks often sequester concentrated quantities of mercury and other toxic pollutants, so efforts to remove dams to increase salmon runs is not a simple proposition.

When the dams were built they were of great benefit to the people living nearby. But like so many human activities, there have been unintended consequences that continue to present current challenges including significant mercury and methyl mercury pollution in Northern California waterways and the San Francisco Bay. It is a grim history that is mostly unknown to local residents.

Mining in the Bay Area

It is easy to want to just “tear down all the dams” in a desperate attempt to restore so much that has been lost. And yet, if all the dams came down tomorrow, the suddenly released chemicals would wreak unholy havoc and pollute all our watersheds immediately.

I’ve been thinking about this history as part of my own recovery from trauma I experienced early in life and all the trauma we experienced in 2020 due to a global pandemic, toxic politics, pervasive economic inequality, and a needed, but painful reckoning with racial injustice. Locally, last fall’s catastrophic fire season is now adding more trauma, as many are now back in evacuation mode due to potential flooding and mudslides near the burn scars. Plus, many of us have lost loved ones due to the virus and/or friends and family due to other causes such as cancer or old age. Tragically, all these deaths and losses have not been properly mourned because of pandemic restrictions and too many of us could not really say goodbye in person to beloved elders, family members, and friends. As a result, like the historic dams throughout Northern California, we all have accumulated previously unimaginable layers and layers of encapsulated grief.

It is common, and somewhat useful, to “dam up” and/or “compartmentalize” the effects of trauma so that we can keep functioning and caring for our families and neighbors. But this short term coping strategy can do long term damage if not tended carefully. The toxic feelings, grief, and even rage can become overwhelming if not channeled and safely addressed. More recent trauma can also release past traumatic memories.

As we begin 2021, some of the trauma we experienced in 2020 is beginning to lessen. Every time I watch another “vaccination video” or hear that a friend who works in healthcare or a beloved elder gets their shot, I find myself weeping with a mixture of grief and joy. I also feel cautiously hopeful that this long period of death, dying, destruction, and social isolation may be finally moving towards an end. This long overdue weeping for all the losses - both recent and historic - is helpful, but I also find myself beset by unspeakable sadness as all the toxic trauma begins to release.

I know how lucky I am to have survived infection with the virus last fall without any symptoms or other tragic consequences. I’m also incredibly grateful to be sheltering-in-place with my beloved spouse in a home with a big garden that is comfortable and safe. It is also an enormous privilege to have meaningful and well-compensated work that can be done mostly at home. And in addition to that economic privilege, I also benefit from being a well-educated white woman.

But even with all my blessings and privilege, I lost two beloved elders, several longtime friends and colleagues, and have been emotionally saddened by serious diagnoses within our immediate community. The losses from the wildfires and damage to the economic well-being of so many neighbors and friends (especially my friends in the performing arts) also weigh upon me. And these losses remind me of previous traumas - especially the huge losses I experienced as a young person and pastor during the HIV/AIDS “dying years”.

There are cracks forming in the dams I have unintentionally created to hold back all the sadness and grief. This is good news, but it isn’t easy because just at the time when I think I should be feeling better and more hopeful, I feel sad and anxious.

Thankfully, I have helping professionals and many other resources in my life to assist me in tending this grief and sadness. And because I have worked to heal from past traumas, I have some tools and skills including a long life of spiritual practice and study that carries me, even when my faith in God and the goodness of neighbors falters. As a helping professional and spiritual leader myself, I know that tending this grief and toxic trauma is a critical part of being able to fulfill my call and obligation to be of service to others.

Ohlone Salmon Fishing

If you find yourself feeling inexplicably awful these days - please know that you are not alone. And get whatever help you can to tend those feelings from professionals, support groups, or by making time to talk with trusted friends or family.

I’m also a big fan of rituals of cleansing and release. During the HIV/AIDS years, the creation of the Names Project and then the AIDS Memorial Quilt was such a helpful way to name and mourn all the losses and to create new memories in community to cherish.

Some years during Lent, I have simply taken scraps of paper and written the names, events, and even petty grievances that feel stuck in my soul and then released them by burning them - or putting the scraps in water so they melt. These rituals of remembrance and release provide and opportunity for weeping and prayer that leads to spiritual and emotional healing.

There are so many other ways to positively release all these pent-up feelings including making art, dancing, singing, shouting, long hikes, hugging trees, and even just letting yourself ugly cry while watching vaccination videos.

Whatever ritual or practice works for you, it will be greatly enhanced if you can do it with others safely online or outside with masks and social distance. Allowing ourselves to be witnessed and then comforted in our grief is essential to mourning well. We are social creatures who desperately need community and that is one of our greatest losses in this pandemic: we are all socially isolated to some degree and it really is hard to heal from grief without being able to hug friends and extended family.

These are challenging times and there is a lot of work to do so that each of us and our communities can be strengthened and healed. May it be so!