As the temperature drops, the leaves leave the trees entirely and people start breaking out the holiday lights, those on the streets are huddling their tent encampments closer together, despite the city’s “relocation sweeps”, which just force those experiencing homelessness to go experience it on another street. The COVID cases are rising in our city and we’re 1 phase away from being shut down again.
It’s easy to feel hopeless, to feel lonely, to feel isolated, as we are encouraged to limit ourselves to our households to protect each other. And yet, there are so many beautiful acts of love, kindness, community & mutual aid blossoming around us. If this season has taught us anything–anything at all– it’s that there is little that fits into our “safe binaries” of black/white, right/wrong, either/or– rather, our hearts are called to work in the realm of “both/and”– especially if we are to understand the complexities of our messy human existence.
I work with many of these complexities every day. On a daily basis, anywhere from 30-80 people walk through the doors of my partner agency, St. Francis Center Employment Services. Here, those who are experiencing homelessness or have had interactions with the criminal justice system can come to find employment, transportation assistance, an internet connection, case management services, housing assistance, assistance in obtaining vital documents professional clothing, & counselling– all services are aimed towards helping people find pathways to self-sufficiency.
This year, I’m living 1,672 miles away from my home in a new house, with 3 other roommates in Denver, Colorado, as part of the Episcopal Service Corps year-long program, in the middle of a global pandemic. All of us work in different partner organizations sprinkled within the city during the week, with Fridays are reserved for formation & curriculum such as Sacred Ground, or curriculum centered around Rev. Dr. Pauli Murray and their contribution to the Episcopal Church.
As ‘Thanksgiving’ draws near, we are called to share the blessings of our privilege, our abundance, with others. “He scatters abroad, he gives to the poor; his righteousness endures forever.” This past week, during our virtual Sacred Ground gathering, we had important conversations about the history of our indigenous family and the stealing, pillaging, betraying, and infecting that led up to the acquisition of the lands we stand on today, as well as the very history of the holiday itself. “Celebrating” a national holiday such as Thanksgiving (especially during a pandemic) feels unsettling, with the knowledge that my very house stands on sacred land taken from the Arapaho, Cheyenne, Núu-agha-tʉvʉ-pʉ̱ (Ute), & Očhéthi Šakówiŋ. It is a National day of mourning for many.
This season, we are called into and to sit with our complexities, called to meditate on our “both/and”s. Many of us will be re-thinking our holiday plans. Many of us will be mourning the loss of time with others, but will remain hopeful in our commitment to keeping each other safe. Many of us will be called in to “mourn, reckon, and fortify”, celebrating the small wins we’ve had as a collective for our communities.
May we keep each other on our hearts in this time of both earnest reflection and joyful presence, both common grief and profound gratitude.
Contemplatives with Altitude 