It’s hard to fathom just how much an ordinary day can hold.
If we only look at the headlines, which only ever tell part of the story, or fall headfirst into cyber rabbit holes, which only distract us from the world nearby, it can feel like the world is going to hell in a hand basket. I suspect it always has been. This is just our hand basket. But what if it isn’t. What if we are smack dab in the middle of heaven on earth, right here, right now, right in our own little necks of the woods. What if there is so much goodness, so much beauty, so much right, all within arm’s reach, even as they have to coexist with all that is evil, ugly, and wrong? Heaven and hell have always and only ever inhabited the same territory. The errand upon which we’ve been sent is to do what we can to stop the evil, transform the ugly, and right what is wrong. What if the ways to do that are found in the midst of the most ordinary of our days, and right underneath our own feet?
This past Saturday my sister and brother-in-law participated in an event sponsored by Braver Angels, an organization with a vision of a better America. An America where citizens of our shared country come together to learn how to listen with curiosity to those who hold different views, and to discover common ground on the rocky terrain of complex issues. As advertised on the Braver Angels of Washington State website, this “…in person workshop brings together equal numbers of conservatives (“Reds”) and liberals (“Blues”) to discuss a specific policy issue, in this case, immigration, and seek shared ground.” The common ground found will potentially be used to create policy recommendations that constituents on both sides of the political spectrum support.
It was a time of respectful, thought provoking, productive civic discourse where insights were gained and common ground discovered that can’t be found in headlines or rabbit holes, but in the midst of an ordinary day.
That same day, my geologist and I spent the morning clearing trails on a local mill pond. The event was sponsored by Mt. Adams Resource Stewards (MARS), a locally led non-profit with a mission “…to enhance the resilience of forests and communities through stewardship, collaboration, and innovation.” It was a bluebird day, and we worked together to clear and better define the trails that wander through this beautiful slice of community owned forest. We forged new connections and deepened familiar ones. There’s something about working together, out in the woods, towards a common goal that is hard to quantify. People ranged in age from a 3 month old, snoozing away in the carrier his mom wore, to my 78 year old geologist.
Turning to talk to one of my fellow trail blazers, I caught my foot on a large branch and fell. Somehow I had the presence of mind to not to lead with my wrist, and turn in such a way that I didn’t land squarely on my shoulder, avoiding a broken wrist, broken shoulder or both. That I didn’t cut off a finger using the very cool battery operated clippers one of our crew loaned me was a miracle unto itself. Conversations were easy, helpful information was shared, and informal invitations were given for unannounced visits for glasses of wine on front porches. Progress was made, trails were cleared, and gratitude was felt for strong-albeit-elderly bones, and the presence of all 10 digits on arthritic hands.
It was a time of community collaboration and connection that can’t be found in headlines or rabbit holes, but in the midst of an ordinary day.
That same weekend people could hear the helicopter. Prayers that it wasn’t life flight co-mingled with ones of thanks for having such a service in our little rural valley. Life Flight Network “…prioritizes placing lifesaving air medical resources in rural communities that are often under funded and overlooked, providing a much-needed lifeline to specialty care resources.”The Glenwood Volunteer Fire Department, staffed by people who live here, love this place, and often work here, provide EMS services to our community. As they worked to save a beloved neighbor and friend, the helicopter landed to fly him to the nearest hospital.
His memorial service is next week, and the pews will overflow with family, friends, and neighbors. It is a loss that is deeply felt by our community. I keep thinking about that day. His last day here. Amidst the shock and grief, all I know is this: He was surrounded by people who, while unable to save him, loved him and stayed with him and walked with him to the end, when he left this life and stepped into the next.
It was a time of shared love and heartbreaking loss in a community where people look out for one another that can’t be found in headlines or rabbit holes, but in the midst of an ordinary day.
Just a couple of ordinary days filled with the most extraordinary of things.
Common ground was found where we are told none exists.
Trails were cleared by some, so that others might travel them.
Sacred companionship was given all the way to the end for a life well lived.
Those are not things to be found in headlines or cyber rabbit holes, but I’ll tell you what. They are the things that matter. Things that can save the world, one square inch at a time. Things that push back the gates of hell and put a stake in the ground of heaven that is found right beneath our feet.
