Tag Archives: Week in Review

Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 26 April 2020

Another Sunday, another week ahead, work from my home office/bedroom. I am grateful to be working. I am grateful for this shelter to shelter in, I am grateful that those whom I hold dearest on this earth have remained thus far untouched from the virus and are safe.

But oh, it is wearying to live with danger lurking just beyond the door. I wonder what will become of us if we break quarantine too soon. I wonder if it’s just a matter of time before we all get the virus. I wonder what life will be like on the other side, because the truth is, we’re just biding our time, doing the best we can, until this is over.

This has been a crash course in living in the moment, because that is all any of us truly have. I’m grateful for this moment. I’ve taken up a new practice. When I cannot sleep, I don’t count sheep; I count my blessings one by one. They offer me a glimmer of hope even on the darkest of nights.

Peace all! Keep safe. Stay well.


Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 26 April 2020

sometimes I see it flash as I pass by
the changing tide, the ceiling cracking
a veritable lament
the wind sighs
normal’s not normal anymore
unless you’ve been living underneath a rock
there beneath the juniper tree
the night looms black

~kat


A ReVerse poem (a practice I started many years ago) is a summary poem with a single line lifted from each entry of a collection of work over a particular timeframe and re-penned in chronological order as a new poem. Unlike a collaborative poem, the ReVerse features the words of one writer, providing a glimpse into their thoughts over time. I use it as a review of the previous week.


Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 19 April 2020

last cookie
It’s easy to feel disoriented these days as we settle uncomfortably into a new normal. I am coping best by modifying my former routine while keeping it intact as much as possible. I work from home now; my cubicle set-up is tucked into a corner of my bedroom. It’s quite possible for me to never leave this room for hours, day into night into day into night…6-8 hours spent sleeping, another 8 or 9 hours working, depending on the day. It would be easy, but I have not let myself go there. In this bizarre reality, I am learning to get up from my desk, sit outside for a few minutes, eat lunch, not in front of my computer screen as I used to do, but at the dining room table. It’s ironic. I am getting better at work-life balance now that work requires no commute than I was ever able to do before.  

Then, there is the importance of self care. Rolling out of bed straight into my desk chair in my PJ’s is not something I consider to be healthy in the long run. While I have changed my waking hour to take advantage of the absence of commute time, I have continued to maintain my morning routine…shower, dress, freshen my face, brush my teeth and my hair, take the dogs for a walk, feed the bird, make myself a few slices of cinnamon-raisin toast with butter, brew myself a cup of tea with honey, feed and water the dogs, take in a bit of news. I am surviving this time of sheltering in by showing up everyday. Not that there is anything wrong with having a PJ and slipper kind of day. But I am doing my best to limit those days so they remain the guilty pleasures they were intended to be. 

Obviously, the animals I live with are disturbed by my constant presence. It is impossible now for them to nap uninterrupted, to wander the halls without having to entertain me. I am learning just how much they sleep while I slave to put kibble in their bowls. I love being home with them. But there is one thing I miss. It is their tail-flapping, wiggle-butt dancing, smiling, slobbery-jowl greetings at the door when I return from a long day away. Now when I pass by, I might get a lifted head, half-eye glance. “Meh, it’s you again…” It’s strange and a bit sad, this new normal…

It’s been over a month since I left my house, except to take trash to the landfill or pick up a few groceries. My one consolation is that I am here another week, infection-free to write to you. I hope you are faring well. That you and those you love are safe and healthy. If the fates are kind, I’ll see you again next week. Peace.


Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 19 April 2020

the tea leaves in your cup have much to say
eat the last cookie
try to dribble out a coherent verse or three
the piper will change your soul…
everyone tells me it’s so, believe me
not trying to be distant
I had forgotten

~kat


A ReVerse poem is a summary poem with a single line lifted from each entry of a collection of work over a particular timeframe and re-penned in chronological order as a new poem. Unlike a collaborative poem, the ReVerse features the words of one writer, providing a glimpse into their thoughts over time. I use it as a review of the previous week.


Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 12 April 2020

Coronavirus, sheltering in, social distancing. It’s hard to think about, write about, talk about anything else these days. But for the first time in my recollection, the world is united in its battle to contain the virus. I cannot remember a time when we shared a common adversary like this. Sure, there are issues that should unite us globally like climate change, poverty and hunger, world peace. Depending on our leadership, countries pick and choose their cause célèbre in posturing and political gamesmanship, but the virus is no respecter of geography, rank or status. We are all vulnerable; we are all affected.

We’re living in a “new normal” they say. I’m not entirely sure we will ever return to what we all considered normal normal. But that is okay with me, because here in the U.S. we have been devolving into an increasingly polarized nation where social distancing has become a way of life, each of us retreating behind the walled fortresses of our respective tribes. If there can be a silver lining in a pandemic it is perhaps this. We are all rallying now behind the heroes in this battle. The healthcare workers, the grocery store clerks, the delivery drivers, the restaurants who continue to feed us, take out or delivery, the first responders, the teachers who are finding new ways to engage our kids, the warehouse and factory workers who keep us supplied with essential needs. Heroes are the people who get things done and keep things going. And it matters not our politics nor our religious persuasion, nor our station, when we hear about another soul stricken, most of us pause, our hearts pricked in common sadness and for those that do, we say a prayer for those fighting for their lives and those downed in battle. We have said it before, we are more alike than we are different. These days we’re getting a hard lesson in that fact. And it’s caused us to be a more compassionate, kinder people. But for grace, because of it, we are all in this together. We need each other now, more than ever.

So do I want the old normal back? Uh, that would be a no, as long as we are able to maintain the bittersweet side effects that a global tragedy like this leaves behind. It gives me hope for us. I have always known we had it in us. It’s a beautiful thing to see!

But before I go, let me tell you about the photograph above. I took it through my window last night in the wee hours. The moon was muted behind light clouds, its beams streaming through the tall trees. It was so bright that it woke me up. When I took a closer look at the photo, “she” emerged, with a bright heart guiding her in the darkness. There’s a huge dark heart below her, but one barely notices it. The light averts our attention upward.

In the Christian tradition I grew up in, Easter was a big deal. The passion of the previous days leading up to a triumphant Easter morn. Of particular interest to me as I’ve grown older and a little wiser is the role that Mary Magdalene played. The face in my early morning photograph reminds me of her. Surrounded by darkness, consumed by love, I imagine her journeying to the tomb that darkest of mornings. She had no idea that dawn would emerge, a miracle. Still she pressed on. We don’t know how this is all going to end, but one thing I do know, thanks to my night visitor, no matter how dark it may be, love will guide us from the darkness to the dawn.

Stay safe, stay well, and stay kind. If the fates are willing, I’ll see you next week.


Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 12 April 2020

they all learned they were kindred then
psychotic, frenzied,
as (they) paused for a prayer
an invisible foe looming
trees bend with the wind
whistling
the greatest cure for all is love that’s deep

~kat


A ReVerse poem is a summary poem with a single line lifted from each entry of a collection of work over a particular timeframe and re-penned in chronological order as a new poem. Unlike a collaborative poem, the ReVerse features the words of one writer, providing a glimpse into their thoughts over time. I use it as a review of the previous week.


Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 5 April 2020

nightfallI used to live for weekends. We all did. During the week, 40 odd hours were not our own. We belonged to businesses, our bosses, the offices and cubicles, the worksites and workplaces that paid the bills and if we were lucky, we managed a few pennies to tuck away or spend on the glorious weekend. Our time. 

But these days many of us find the lines blurred between work and home. Our weekend destinations are shuttered. We are rattle around in our houses forced to find new ways to entertain ourselves. 

It’s hard not to write about this strange new normal we are all living. I suppose it is only normal to write from what one knows, and for me, for now, sheltering in, working from home, waiting for the storm to pass is what I know. 

I used to think of myself as solitary, contemplative. I liked being at home, keeping to myself, but for daily conversations with the Muse and snuggling with my furry housemates. But when forced to shelter in place, home changed. It feel less and less like the sanctuary I once loved. 

It takes effort to find new ways to notice my surroundings and to appreciate them. In fact, I am finding that there are all sorts of things I’ve never noticed before. Every moment is an opportunity to find the hidden treasures that have been here all along. I realize before this new reality, I had been living a superficial existence, content to exist on the surface of the familiar. But oh, the things I’ve missed in my busyness! I shall never take my freedom to move about in the world for granted going forward. But I have also fallen in love with the home that shelters and sustains me; the place that grounds me, where I can lay my head to sleep, the place where my soul keeps. 

Happy Sunday. Stay safe and well. Peace…


Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 5 April 2020

i’m just listening to the wind
kitsch, in full, on crude display
crimson flushed, vexed by this calamity’s cruel din
it is quiet, oh so quiet, but for chattering birdsong, and rustling
don’t believe in everything you see
my mind won’t let me go to sleep

~kat


A ReVerse poem is a summary poem with a single line lifted from each entry of a collection of work over a particular timeframe and re-penned in chronological order as a new poem. Unlike a collaborative poem, the ReVerse features the words of one writer, providing a glimpse into their thoughts over time. I use it as a review of the previous week.


Sunday’s ReVerse – March 29, 2020

We will be forever changed when this storm passes. And pass it will, though some of us will not live to see it. My hope is that those of us left behind emerge from our seclusion with a new appreciation for each other, gratefulness and respect for the heroes in our midst, not celebrities or athletes or Marvel masked characters or high level politicians, but the healthcare workers, the first responders, the restauranteurs who are keeping us fed, some delivering to our doors, the grocery store clerks, the delivery drivers, the mail carriers…those who press on and serve us at a distance and in our time of great need. Thank you. Thank you all.

Staying inside to stop the spread, as so many of us have been called to do, is such a small price to pay to help us all arrive safely on the other side. We will all be forever changed. Hopefully, we will emerge a kinder people. We are truly in this together.

Stay safe, stay well, be kind, breathe. Today’s reVerse, gleaned over the past few months, kind of says it all. I’ll leave you with that! Peace to you my friends. Peace. ❤️


Sunday’s ReVerse – March 29, 2020

gentle dark descending
through shuttered curtain slits,
Until next glimpse…
each day, the simple gift of life
death looms in the shadows seeking
in silver and want
morning’s icy breath lingered
if only for a season
but here behind these looming walls,
soft blush of blooms on the breeze
on pause, love draws near…from a distance
causing me to sigh
soon comes the dawn

~kat


A ReVerse poem is a summary poem with a single line lifted from each entry of a collection of work over a particular timeframe and re-penned in chronological order as a new poem. Unlike a collaborative poem, the ReVerse features the words of one writer, providing a glimpse into their thoughts over time. I use it as a review of the previous week.(or in this case, the last several months).