St. Paul's Episcopal Church issued the following announcement Nov. 4.
How do you manage times of increased anxiety, hardship, and loss? Under normal circumstances, I might pose that question in the abstract, but lately it feels like everyone is enduring a season of abnormal grief and stress. How have you been handling it? For some of us, withdrawal is the preferred coping mechanism. We instinctively pull back from our usual engagement with family, friends, and others, allowing a veneer of detachment to shield us. Others pretend that nothing is wrong at all. “Pandemic? What pandemic?” Lately, as emotional fatigue has set in, I have felt pulled toward a different approach—one that I usually would not seek: tenderness. Becoming intentionally more tender carries heightened risk, but I suspect that, in time, it will be a posture that offers a deeper, lasting hope.
Although I am always likely to tear up during a sentimental movie or an evocative piece of music, lately I have found myself moved by even the slightest hint of emotional engagement. A few months ago, I sat in on some choir rehearsals and joined in singing Rani Arbo’s setting of Alfred Lord Tennyson’s poem “Crossing the Bar,” which the choir performed on Monday night at its requiem concert for All Saints’. Back when I rehearsed it with them and then again on Monday night, I began to cry. Both times, though, rather than allowing that moment of tearfulness to come and go, I went home and found a recording of it on the internet and listened to it while I read Tennyson’s poem over and over, weeping all the way through. Part of me longs to be tearful, and I wonder whether you might have experienced that same yearning.
Original source can be found here.
Source: St. Paul's Episcopal Church