Heart Level Change

We, wearing our masks when it feels like 40 degrees Celsius can’t catch much of a break from this heatwave here in the Gatineau Hills. It feels like gravity is stronger or something and we are dragged down just for the spite of some mad decree by unseen gods.  Masks in this heat… It’s torture really. It is really amazing we do what we do for the sake of others. Protecting. Caring. Hot. Irritated. Slick with sweat. We prefer not to go out if we can. We drag ourselves heavily through the day looking for ice cream and water and air-conditioning mostly or the purring thrum of fans labouring in the hot air. 

Some of us go to the river where silvery fish swim down to play tag in cooler waters. They have learned to love the places where there are shadows in their river. Up here we can see in odd places, the parched grasses catching the warm yellow sun where there was green not long ago. There seem to be no cool shadows on the greenery now, just feeble greys sometimes, like laundry washed too often. There is not much respite. We are not fish. We live up here with the sultry yellow sun. Our river is the very sky around us.

When everything is so bright with light we hide where we can because this place, this dry place dazzles us. But we always know the storm will come. The one that rushes water and jagged thunderous streaks of light from our sky and for a few hours, maybe more, we are appeased.

It’s a trying time to be alive right now. The stark sun on the world’s landscape dazzles to painful squints. It hurts to look at it. It’s as surreal as it gets. At least so far. There is very little we can do about the world I’m often reminded. And that is wise advice of course. So little we can do in a world which at this point seems pretty unfathomable. And that is a fishes’ word—unfathomable. The depths of the waters we are swimming in and its extent not able to be measured by any of us. We watch. We wait. We weather the storms. It is one of those times in history we could never have prepared for but which has happened in similar ways before. If you look at history long enough. And us standing here squinting at the sun means we got through it all then and we will get through this now…whatever that is. At the end of the day, we take care of our families, ourselves, our community. This is always the way it is done. Has always been done. The details hardly matter. 

For some though, the details are everything. They’re in trouble. The bills. The jobs lost. The loved ones sick or threatened by this mad virus. The curtailing of our usual forms of fun and comfort and freedom. The price of food. Tempers flare. Worries ebb and flow. Too many worries to count some days. That’s when you say, there will be a better day and you grit your teeth and get through it. Best you can. You are not alone. There are many like you. Most of all you cut down the noise of the world around you. It may seem a sad thing to know that sometimes when epic change demands of all of us, it is not all of us who can afford to charge ahead to make the world a better place. It is an odd and strange privilege of time, person and circumstances. There are too many of us now who can only do what needs to be done for our families, ourselves and if possible our community. And you know what? That’s okay. Because each struggle, all these struggles and fears we go through individually change the world in the way it is meant to be changed. Where it matters. Where the heart of change happens.

It is wisdom to understand that the heart of change happens in the cool shadows. Not in the bright and demanding sunlight where there are many voices clamouring at us. We can’t see it necessarily so clearly in the dark. The man who lost his job is stronger than he was yesterday because that is what he has decided. The woman frantic with worry over her parents has a look now about her that speaks of determination and compassion. The ingenious finagling to find results on small scales in all the small businesses. The parents finding patience where none was before. The neighbour that said, “let me help you with that.” The old man who said on this I will not compromise and know it. The treacherous child who learns forgiveness. A person's anger and judgment now changed to compassion.  The heart of change does not sometimes happen at protest marches and in great and lofty halls of government. It happens when heart meets strength it never had before. It happens when kindness and a quiet courage replace outrage, one to another: the heart level of change.

You will find that here at the heart level, the changes grow stronger every time. And by the taking care of just those small things by so many people, the world changed. That’s sometimes how history goes. That is how you will find yourself on the right side of history. Quiet. Resolute. Strong. Unwavering.

So when people say there is little you can do and you are not able to scream and yell and protest and fight for causes, know you’re already doing it. You got through the day with strength and kindness. One more day. And you will do it again tomorrow. And by gum, you have no idea how strong you are. Even when you’re crying. Even when you’re afraid. Even when you see no future. Even when you’re madder than hell. By gum, it is heart level change that will get you through. And you have no choice about that.

If it all gets too much this week, this month: wake up early. Somewhere between 3 and 5 in the northeast you can see by the naked eye in that vast river of sky where we spin on this little green planet, the brightest comet we have seen in decades. It is not an omen.  It is light, a heart light, alone swimming in the cool waters to an ancient rhythm of time and space and promise. It reminds us we too sometimes swim alone in shadows but how damn glorious we can be. Be Strong. Be Kind.