today, this week, i feel sad.
i work part time, at a cafe in an assisted living facility, cooking and delivering meals on wheels in okehampton. it’s a recent job, i’ve been there about 6 weeks. i deliver meals to the same people, three days a week. this week, two of the people i deliver to have gone into hospital. the week i started, there was a funeral. often i see an ambulance outside the facility as i arrive at work. old age, sickness and death was not something i thought would be a big part of this job; i just wanted something easy, simple, with no responsibility.
driving round in the van this week, in the quiet moments in between bustling into someone’s house, hot plate in hand and a smile on my face, i have been feeling deeply into grief. grief about my own losses - through death, and also through conflict and misunderstandings, and grief in a wider sense, for the world, for all the people suffering.
when i started working this job i found it so joyful. bringing food to people, connecting with them, trying to make them smile; it all felt so full of love, and part of alleviating suffering. this week all i can see is the physical difficulties many of them face, and the loneliness of it all, and i feel sad.
though i’m not there yet i know this will pass. i think of the third noble truth, which says that there is a way to end suffering, and i think of the heart sutra, which says suffering is emptiness, and i feel comforted. i can find a shred of joy to bring with me into people’s houses, and then, in the silence of the van, i can let the sadness fill me.
i’ve been knitting a pixie hat for myself. a small thing, portable, to keep my head warm, a small act of caretaking that helps move the sadness through. one of my favourite women i deliver to is always knitting hats for kids. she says ‘it’s the only thing i can do’. and i think yes, that’s all i can do too, sometimes, make something warm, with my hands, as an expression of something ineffable.
t.i.l.l - things i loved lately.
bridgerton.
walking to work in the spring air.
the trees outside my work budding.
smelling flower scents.
easter eggs in the post.
thinking about going camping tomorrow.
may your easter be full of ease, may you lie amongst bluebells, may you see the clear morning sky and feel lifted.
love ruth