stillness & the pandemic halo
Welcome! I am so happy that you've joined us here to receive an encouraging sketch, an inspiring idea on occasion from Cypress Treehouse Counseling. Thank you warmly for your interest! Because we're a treetop refuge for healing and discovery through counseling and artistic expression, the perspective of an artist will be shared in these sketches, along with a gentle practice of participation. I hope you enjoy! Last time, we celebrated contrast: light against darkness, curve and line, rough and smooth. For this email sketch, readers voted to receive a poem about a dog. (Previous sketches such as 'candle before dawn' and 'sourdough bread' can be found under, "Sketchbook of Ideas" on our website.) Here is the winning poem.
Here It Is -
It is called, ‘The Pandemic Halo’,
by Jim Moore
The first time I saw it it was above the head
of an old Lab. He was being walked as usual at 7 AM
by his young owner lots of lamppost stops, as usual.
There it was: faint at first, then hovering at a rakish tilt
above the silky head. I thought maybe it was a weird trick of light --
the day was bright -- but then the next morning the nurse who parks
across the street, in the now almost empty lot, was trotting along
on her way to the clinic that is just below my window. She had it, too.
I don't think she noticed it at all. She was moving quickly, late
to work. I imagine That's what was on her mind not holiness.
The third day a young man in a red cap with a backpack slouched past,
I had never seen him before. You could see he was seriously depressed,
looking down at the sidewalk. But there it was, firmly in place
above him, so he couldn't see how beautiful
he really was. By now the pandemic halo is well recorded.
We almost take it for granted, what once seemed so amazing.
After the pandemic is over, they say, the halo effect will disappear.
They say we will return to life as usual. We won't need it.
I have my doubts. I think we might need it more than ever.
I think we might be saying things like, "Remember how incredible it was
during the pandemic, how everyone had a halo,
how grief and holiness were all we knew of the world
and the sight of a dog at a lamppost could bring us to tears?"
I love the stillness in this poem. (Notice stillness in something unexpected one evening this week.)
Warmly yours,
-Katherine Champlin Rice, MA LPC
CypressTreehouseCounseling.com
Contact me with all your inquiries or to be removed from this list. 🙏Thank you!
