NH to WI

On Monday Ryan turned 3!  We spent that night at my father’s house in New Hampshire and in the morning we (my dad, daughter Annabelle, son Ryan, and I) all piled in my Mazda 5 and started driving West.

Our first stop was both emotional and healing for me. We met an old friend at the Eric Carle Museum in Western Massachusetts.  My dad stayed with my children as they delighted in craft making and art while Kate and I got a chance to talk. Our friendship was formative and profoundly shaped each of us, yet we had not been together and had barely spoken in 20 years.

This was an important place for me to begin. I started this journey with solid footing in my own capacity to love and was reminded of the sweet flavor of resilience. I go forward knowing that opening myself to others will change me for the better.

That night we retreated to my cousin Mark’s property in rural New York.  The sunset glowing over the hills.  The stars lit up the sky and the hayfields burst with light from fireflies. We made smores over the campfire. Mark played his guitar and my little one’s singing voices filled the air. There it was so easy to feel connected to nature and one another. This place, so different from DC, made me reflect on how place is the backdrop to everything. 

This question of how place shapes people and our experiences will travel with me as we move across the United States.

The next morning the road trip aspect began in earnest. We woke to the sound of rain on the tent. Ryan could barely contain his excitement. He had cups to catch the rainwater and was eager to get outside and play.  I continue to be in awe of my children’s ability to find joy and play in almost any situation.  Thank goodness, for after a couple of hours of playing in the wet grass, we all piled in the car again. We soon got a call that the person we were planning to see was sick so we quickly reassessed and decided to go as far as we could. We spent the next 12 hours driving to the Detroit suburbs.

Jenn opened her doors and welcomed us at 10PM. We got a short time to catch-up as the kids bounced about and released some of their energy. Although the time was short we still got to have some great conversations, reflecting on how to translate the racial equity. At this point in the trip I was keenly aware of the amount of stuff we brought with us.  It is more than she has with her to live for a year. A desire to be self-sufficient and never overburden others has my car overflowing with books, food and bedding.

Although Detroit is a city I've always felt compelled to visit and it is the town where my grandfather was born, I chose to limit car time and continue heading West. We went to a suburb of Chicago and were welcomed by good friends from DC who returned to their hometown a couple years ago. Their kids are Annabelle & Ryans age and they all played hard and we left the next day feeling well cared for and well rested.

I was bursting with joy the whole next day!  It was full of beautiful connections and inspiring conversations with people I had just met, plus I started and ended the day with good friends and got to share it all with my dad and children. We left the Chicago area and made a mid-day stop in Madison. We meet Eileen, who returned here, to the town where she was born after over 30 years in DC. The moments in the conversation with her when I felt most alive was when she talked about her gift to the world being about making connections and showing the interconnectedness of everything.

As we go, I am conducting informal interviews along the way and am eager to share people's words. I will work on compiling these for you all when I return to DC.

Once I finished recording the conversation with Eileen, a 5 year old girl walked over and introduced herself to Annabelle. They became fast friends and we ended up going to the playground with Holliday and her nanny or fondly known as her second mom, Simeone.

Simeone talked about how in recovery they teach you to look for the people who are new or otherwise might feel uncomfortable. She talked about how her gifts are welcoming people and putting people at ease. It was clear that she and little Holliday share this gift, for they created an inspiring, spontaneous connection.

I think it is important to pay attention and cultivate what brings you joy. These conversations with people I have just met feed a deep hunger in me to know and to be known.

We then landed for a couple of nights with good friends in Viroqua, WI.  They have three young children and it was beautiful to see them all run free together. There is so much space here for kids to be kids - exploring, playing and enjoying life.

This is my quick but not short round-up of the last week.  I have so many reflections that are percolating. I realized how hard it is to write while traveling with children and expect that some of the deeper reflections will be expressed once I've returned to DC, but I will continue to update along the way.

 

Broken & Connected: Our Journey Begins

Where am I going?
I am going deeper.  I am going places that hold meaning for me. I am finding joy, love and connection amidst this broken world.

Broken. What is broken?
Our politics.  Our public safety.  People's connection to their own humanity and the humanity of those around us.  Connection to place. An ability to be present to all that is, has been, and open to what will be.

The police car that is parked in front of my house is a daily reminder of the shootings last week.  Of Lawrence and Billy’s murders. Of the murder that happened last year. His body lay behind a car, out of view and without life. I woke to the gun fire and watched as the first responders embraced and sobbed.  Now my breath stops every time I hear a loud noise; has another life been taken or are kids simply playing? The show of force is supposed to make me feel safer. Instead it reminds me of the many black and brown men and women the police have killed. It reminds me that we systematically respond to fear with force, violence and guns. It reminds me that I can't stay still or silent.

People are dying.

Living in Washington, DC has been particularly painful since the change in administration. The displacement, the poverty, the violence, the racism have always been here, but I can no longer pretend we are on a path of slow, but steady improvement.

I at once feel disconnected from my country, and keenly aware of how we impact one another. I feel distant from, yet so deeply intertwined with, people and places who would vote for an overtly racist, sexist, money hungry, self-absorbed man.  He who now makes decisions for me, my family, my neighbors, our country and our world.

Broken.
Disconnected.
Fragmented.

When I drive away from DC tomorrow I am not leaving all these realities behind, but rather, seeking to integrate them into what awaits.

We are all deeply interconnected. Our current. Our pasts. Our soon to be.

We are all interwoven and tied together.

I am going on a pilgrimage that is about connecting with our humanity and letting us be whole, complicated people.