Jim Mahoney's Blog - Sacred to Etc.

Pandemic Time - Not in days, weeks, months, or years: July 31, 2020

I have mentioned this in passing in prior blogs, but it is a topic that keeps coming up, at least in my life.  It is terribly hard to think back with precision and identify time periods. So much seems a blur. One obvious reason for me is that my life is no longer divided into seven distinct chunks of time.  Given my calling where the weekends are clearly different because of Mass, congregations, and liturgies, all that has changed. It is not the same, over the weekend at least, to celebrate Mass with a couple of people in the Church and somehow hundreds, even thousands, on the other side of the camera, or at least the internet. You can't see them. You can't hear them. You hope they are there. But you do not know for sure. I only have a hunch that people are there when I hear about the numbers of people that went on live-stream for that Mass. But it is not something that you can see.

While the pace and even pressure were killers, I did love the weekend liturgies. Those masses really depleted me - took every ounce of energy and concentration - and I know that I gave it everything that I had. But there was no question that this was about Saturday afternoon/Sunday. For me, this was the major part of the week. I also got to see so many people, good friends, even good strangers (is there such a thing?). It was a major time of connection for me. Not having it  lets me realize how much I miss those connections.

At least with activities using ZOOM for group meetings, you know that specific people are there. Live-stream - it is more amorphous - although it reaches more people - unless you are using a super-duper version of Zoom or someone else in the ZOOM family or distant cousins. More and more, these things blur together. Is there something wrong with me? (don't all answer at once!).

My hunch is that my life in the pandemic  does not have, for lack of a better phrase, the "time markers" that were such easy ways of defining and describing where I was in a particular day, particular activity, etc. Maybe your life has some similar patterns - or even absence of patterns.

To me, the downside of not having these "time markers" makes it difficult to recall things distinctly. I find at times that my recollections of things may lack some distinctiveness. This is not a problem in and of itself.It is more of just being overwhelmed by one darn thing after another in the pandemic. Don't like it. But have to figure out how to best deal with it.

I have been blessed with a decent memory. But now my memory lacks "place-holders" due to the pandemic. Those placeholders served a great purpose of separating days, weeks, months, and years. I liked those separations. Now I have to figure out how to replace them.

There are some times when I know that I am floundering a little. I defiantly suggest that this is now a function of the aging process. It is a function of the place-holders being no longer distinct. This makes a little sense to me. If I can get a little sense from time to time, I'll take it.

But for now - poor Father Time: (made me smile)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Doing The Right Thing for Our World - July 29B, 2020

I get frustrated at the far too frequent tendency of some folks to make everything political, including the coronovirus. When the wearing of masks becomes a dividing political issue, then this line of argument has gone too far.

I greatly respect a guy who went to Regis High School, Holy Cross, Cornell Weill, and some other places. Some have branded him political, but I seem him as apolitical. I also believe he has saved far more lives than the people who brand him as political. I won't list his name here. (It is Doctor Fauci!) This is silly to not list it, since you know whom I am talking about. My reason is that life is too short to deal with people who want to dispute this guy's recommendations, people who refuse to recognize that scientific knowledge evolves and changes based upon new findings. So, if you want to argue about this, go argue with someone else. I'm not going to engage you. I will always try to be respectful.

Back to my point. Things are really bad in our world right now. More people are dying. When this guy was asked what can be done, here is what he said must take place to change things around. I list this guy's major points here:

1. Everyone should wear Masks in all possible settings
2. Close the bars – until we get things under control.
3. Practice social distancing. Keep six feet from each other if you do not live together.
4. Personal hygiene – wash your hands.

The above points summarize the science in broad strokes. These will involve some changes in our lives. But unless we do these things, we cannot conquer the pandemic.

We need to realize that public health progress will drive our economic recovery. We can be safe once again. But we have to stop being sidetracked by people who want to keep repeating their point that everything is political. That approach takes up too much oxygen!

This guy is hopeful because Americans can do the right thing. We have shown this in our history.

I pray for this guy every single day. I pray that the above things are followed. To not follow them seems really reckless.

And I pray for every scientist who is working on an effective vaccine - and effective treatment. God bless them.

Wouldn't it be nice if we could unite on this? Isn't it worth it?

 

 

The Indy 500 on our local streets- July 29A, 2020

Feel free to consider this as literary overkill. You may be right. Over the last week, I have tried to cautiously get into my car parked on Main Street- and was genuinely afraid of cars coming along - who, with a slight little swerve, would have hit me as I was getting into the car.

The whole nature of the pandemic can cause us to react to things differently than in normal times. I do find that many people are anxious, cautious, and, to say the least, not adventurous in the slightest. This is probably normal reactions to difficult times.

But there is another part to a pandemic environment. We can often be inattentive, distracted, and somehow not focus on things, including traffic. A lot of people need to be more focused.

I notice a growing number of cars speeding - not just on Main Street, but on many streets in our general area. Where are these people going? (and why wasn't I invited?)

I just wish drivers would be more attentive. Where I live, the speed limit is 25 mph. This is slow. But it makes sense - especially when you have joggers, walkers, kids, dogs, cats, and all sorts of living creatures. I wish people would become more attentive. Someone is going to get hurt. Sigh.

 

 

Finding Any Blessings during the Pandemic? - July 27B, 2020

Occasionally I run across people who speak about finding blessings during the pandemic. Inside, I just groan and then listen quietly. I usually don't respond. I have been far more overwhelmed by this pandemic than I care to admit. The thing that gets me down the most is just trying to imagine the reality that this pandemic affects our entire planet. I can't come to grips with the enormity.  I pray so hard for vaccines, medical treatments, which are so desperately needed - and which are needed to be scientifically tested and just not rushed - although I wish they would rush them. At the same time, I want them to work - and not be done for reasons of political expediency. You can't cut corners on this most important medical project of our lifetime.

But I digress from finding blessings in the pandemic.

Here are a few that I've find. There are many more, I'm sure. I'll drop them in this blog from time to time.

I have a few extraordinarily good friends, best friends, who showed their concern for me in all kinds of ways in the pandemic. I appreciate them even more today than a few months ago.

I also have some good friends who have gone out of their way to see if I'm taking care of myself, telling me to be good to myself, and, in general, coming across to me as genuinely helpful and not annoying! When I think of these people, I smile.

I listen now to Canadian geese chirping loudly early in the morning. I laugh at them. A friend told me that they were saying hello to me. I'm grateful for the blasted geese.

I'm fortunate to live in a little place for my retirement. I really like it. I'm at peace there. It is quiet. It is a bit tiny, but it works for me. This is a blessing.

There are lots of other things, I'm sure. But I'll have to write them down so I do not forget to inflict you with them.

Hang in. That's what I'm trying to do. The majority of the time, I'm succeeding. 

 

Lights Go Out in an Irish Bar - July 27A, 2020

 

There is a wonderful (are there any other kinds) Irish expression about friendship: "you only know who your friends are - when the lights go out in a pub." How incredibly true this is. 

The wonderful treasure of friends is seen so often during this pandemic. How many times have we connected with our friends - and maybe had other friends slip away during these dark times?

When you don't see someone, then it takes real effort to connect with them. We either have to call, email, text, or connect in a deliberate way. It just does not happen easily or automatically.

In one way, I have a huge number of friends. However, the really close friends are the ones who made an effort to connect during the pandemic. I never fully realized how much I treasured them than during this pandemic. I am also more of a social being than I ever realized - and how much I really miss social interactions with so many people. Once in a while, I wonder whether I might not be shy - but then when I think about it, I conclude - "Yeah, I really am shy - but am able to function in certain settings as an extrovert."

I do regret that job responsibilities kept me from connecting at times with other friends. I realized today that I have to do something about this - and maybe connect some more in the next month or so. Letting great friends slip away is sad. I'm going to do something about it.  I also know that great friends are the ones whose loyalty is never ever in question. What a blessing they are. And, as luck would have it, they are probably in the Irish pub when the lights go out.

 

The Pandemic Does Not Help Our Fear of Abandonment - July 24, 2020

The above cartoon is whimsical. It is about a topic that is not whimsical, namely the fear of abandonment. It is real. It can be crippling. It can be occasional. It can be downright puzzling and seemingly without solution. Yet, it can affect not only people who have a deep-seated clinical fear of being alone or abandoned. It can affect many people in their lives, families, and relationships.

I'm not writing here as a clinician, but rather as someone who has watched this fear be expressed by so many people over the years. The fear of abandonment is a primal fear. It hits us in our guts. It is subtle. It is gripping. It is confusing. But it does affect us. 

I connect this with so many things about our faith. In spiritual terms, we believe in a God of non-abandoning love. This has been a somewhat frequent theme of mine over many decades. It takes real courage, real faith, and a real leap of faith to believe that our God has promised not to abandon us. We pray to God - stay with me, don't leave me, let me know that I'm not alone - and, most simply, O God, help me.

Despite what we do, God won't run away from us. God did not abandon Jesus when he died. We will not be abandoned either. In the midst of this complicated religious truth is something comforting and elusive.

The pandemic causes many people to feel abandoned - to feel alone - to feel like there is no tomorrow - and then we're startled to find that everyone is experiencing the same thing.

I don't mean for this post to be complicated. I just want people to know that they are not alone. The most comforting part of our relationship with God is the non-abandoning love of God.  And I believe that the second most comforting part of our relationship with God is the fact that God is absolutely crazy about us - despite everything we do. I think that the third most comforting part of our relationship with God is that fact that God wants to forgive us - and if we cannot forgive ourselves.

The key to religion is finally believing and accepting everything in the last paragraph!

A secret: I struggle with all these things - and hope, someday, to accept them fully - because I believe it is true. 

(I'm going to continue with this topic tomorrow.)

Being Kind Over Being Right - July 23B, 2020

Early this morning, I came across this line from Richard Carlson, "Choose being kind over being right and you'll be right every time."  I have expressed a similar thought in homilies, saying something like "there are more important things than being right." Carlson wrote the wonderful wise book Don't Sweat the Small Stuff - and Its All Small Stuff. His wife, Kristine Carlson, has kept up websites and many different media to continue to spread Richard's worth and insights when he died far too early, I believe, from an embolism.

This is all by way of explaining the title for this post, Being Kind Over Being Right. Being involved with people in families, probably thousands over the years, I often encountered situations where this question of "being right" was damaging to family life, married life, employee life, and even interaction with friends.  

There are more important things than being right. To be totally direct, on the day of judgment when you see God face to face, do you want to have severed a relationship because you held on to your opinion or point of view - and even though that wrecked the relationship, was it worth it?  

We can all hold onto things. We can become entrenched in our positions. We can become blind to the bigger picture. I've seen it happen so many times. It makes me sad, especially when I see this happen in families.

On the day of judgment, I am happy, even eager, to be judged by God for being too kind.  I'll risk that. I would not want to be judged for holding onto an opinion where, even though I'm right, it really fractured a relationship. Ain't worth it. I don't want to be judged for being too righteous, too stubborn, or any of those things that I can be.  I'll take kindness every time.

 

"We Interrupt this Gloom to Offer...Hope" - July 23A, 2020

(You may have noticed that my new daily blog has not been - daily. Sorry about that. In light of my other responsibilities right now, it is difficult to make this a priority. More precisely, I want it to be a priority. Wanting something does not make it so. I'm floundering here. So let me be specific: I get enough feedback on this blog to know that it is worth the effort. My problem is that I don't have the time or energy to add one other thing to the rest of the stuff that I still must do. But I should. I hate how I sound in the sentences written so far. I am whining. No question about it. I do see that an endpoint (known only by God) to my work-life is coming slowly into sight. So why not start with proper attention to this blog? (News Flash) I've now convinced myself. So I will be more responsible. Enough of this naval-gazing. It is really boring me!)

The title of this post comes from a remarkable column in the New York Times from July 16 written by Nicholas Kristoff. He is a wonderful, thoughtful, serious writer. i do not know him, have never heard him speak, but he fascinates me with his ability to look at serious questions in serious ways and cause me to think. I'm not using this post to write about his column so much as I'm using the title to think about our situation. 

In one way, the world looks dark. When the heck will the sun come out in our lives? Kristoff highlights a number of things that can give us some (emphasis on "some") small reason for hope. I'll take any reason you can find.

I know a few people, not many, who have an extraordinary ability to be optimists. I am fascinated by these people who certainly see a different reality than I see. My favorite word is "Sigh!" It captures so many things. Yet, while often being internally morose, I viscerally believe that we are meant to be people of hope. This is what our faith is about. This is what the resurrection is above. This is the effect that Jesus had on this world. He came to give us life. In essence, he came to give us hope. Right now, it seems tough to see, tough to think that things might get better. I just remembered some phrases that I preach about in Holy Week. God does not ask us not to feel anxious, but to trust in God no matter how we feel. (I think it is by Thomas Merton.) 

Things work out for the best - not necessarily in the short run, not even the middle run, but absolutely in the ultimate run. That is what and why we believe. It is time to apply that to everyday life today. I'm tired of feeling morose. I want to get past it.

I want to see us have a vaccine. I want scientific knowledge to be respected and not politicized. We're in a horrible rut where so many things are politicized. Why not say No to the people who do this. I want so many things to now start to change. I'm frustrated. I'm fed up. We're the United States of America. We can do anything. I want us to celebrate our wonderful diversity. So why not support those who can unite us, those who can encourage us, those who call us to greater decency, courage, and wisdom. Why not celebrate those who are genuine role models, rather than embarrassments. It does not seem too much to ask. And while I'm at it, I hope that the Chicago Cubs, in an abbreviated season, can exuberantly defeat the Chicago White Sox.

Hmmmmm. I feel better now. I'm even smiling. I'll try this again later today or tomorrow.  

 

 

  

Golden Retrievers and Ice Cream - July 15, 2020

This will be a little less than profound. There are times when I don't want to deal with problems. I cannot take any more problems. I don't want to hear about problems. Enough is enough.  I keep all of these feelings pretty much on the inside. But sometimes, I do want people to know that I do have limits - and there are times when I just want to think about golden retrievers and ice cream. So here it is:

Looking at this picture makes me smile. It is that simple. Seeing goldens makes me smile. Thinking of ice cream makes me smile. For just a few minutes, let the complaints go away, the troubles go away, and it would be nice: let pandemic go way. Let the virus be found.

Please.

Until the above things happen, I'll just have to focus for a few minutes more on goldens and ice cream. Reality and being a grown-up: eat your heart out!

 

Is Your Life Just a Blur - since the Pandemic started? - July 14, 2020

My life often seems like a blur. Does yours? Frequently, I have to figure out what day it is. Sometimes, the weekdays and weekends blur together until I'm in the Church for Sunday Mass. Those moments are just little aggravations - none of them major, but a little frustrating. Then, when I look back at what has gone on for these last few months, I become alarmed. Where the heck have these months gone?  Why do I feel like this? Have I become lazy? (Quick profound answer: NO.) But something is off in the way that I have been experiencing reality during this pandemic.

I have done a little research on "blur." Trying to see what I could learn. Look at this photograph:

 

Anyone who has looked at a photo or used a camera knows that the photo is blurred. Sometimes, we do this deliberately to get a more interesting picture. Sometimes, it just happens.  But it becomes a different reality when it is part of our everyday life.

I came across this brief hint of an explanation: "Between input and reaction there is a gap of pure awareness that we usually don’t notice and speed right by. That is why our life can feel like a blur."

A Gap of pure awareness - This is the key to living a less blurred life: a gap of pure awareness. A conscious, deliberate moment where I stop, look at what I am doing, think, and then consciously decide to do something.  Conscious, deliberate thoughts - I do this often, but somehow, I don't use this in looking at the flow, the pace, of my life. This is not a big deal. It is not a major breakthrough. But, it is one of those simple things that is so self-evident that I never thought of doing it.

I have spoken with thousands of parishioners over the decades and mentioned this whole notion of stimulus and response. When we start to do something (stimulus), we need to stop before we respond (response).  In that space between stimulus and response - we can really shape our action (response). We are choosing not to let ourselves just be carried away by the movement of time - and instead focus on what we are doing for ourselves or another person. Responses are not inevitable. Losing our temper is not inevitable. stubbornly moving ahead is not inevitable. We need to seek that "gap of pure awareness" = that "space" = and fill it up with something helpful = and especially something that does not hurt yourself or another person. This is really important - and really helpful. I am actually going to use it to practice what I preach. What a remarkable idea! I am saddened at all the times I listen to people and realize what goodness could have happened in their family or relationships if they had used this gap of pure awareness. Some people, myself included, can be hellbent on saying something to another person - and never think it through before speak. This causes so much pain.

I will come back to this topic occasionally in this blog. It can make such a difference in so many parts of our lives. (I am a bit chagrined that I had totally forgotten this in the pandemic.

God help me - and you!

Denial is Wonderful - but not for long - July 13, 2020

Alcoholism is called a disease of denial.  But the problems with denial are not only those experienced by alcoholics. I have been thinking about this topic recently - and considered people in prominent positions who are just in tremendous denial about major things in our world. We can see politicians in denial about other politicians. We can sadly see it in the Church when people denied the horrible reality of sexual abuse. We can see it in so many places. We can often just be in denial: about our attitudes, what we eat, what we believe about others - and so many things. Even something as profoundly serious as the coronavirus.

I put this topic in today's post for the simple reason that most of us can be in denial about certain things, certain people. It is a good reminder to check our assumptions, be sure of who and what we believe - and make sure that we seek facts that are real and not fiction. 

On a less lofty plane, I used to love to go to TCBY for frozen yogurt. I had convinced myself that it was healthy and clearly an ideal weight-loss product. It was delicious, though. Sigh.

 

Face Masks are a sign of love and a declaration of being pro-life - July 12, 2020

The Archbishop of New Orleans, Gregory Aymond, is the only archbishop or even bishop in the United States to be diagnosed with COVID 19. He recently said that "wearing a mask shows true love of neighbor."

Archbishop Aymond has recently written that "There is virtually no scientific disagreement that wearing a mask reduces the possibility of dispersing into the air particles that may contain the virus and also reduces the possibility of inhaling any particles from another person.

As we have seen, many people who are infected with coronavirus are asymptomatic, which means they do not know they are sick and are capable of spreading the disease. Wearing a mask in public protects your neighbor in the grocery store, in the bank and in church.

Admittedly, wearing a mask can be an irritation, but doing so is a small act of charity that we as Christians are called to offer out of love for God and neighbor. Far from being a sign of weakness, wearing a mask is a sign of strength, selfless love and prudence."

I am beyond aghast at those who have tried to characterize the wearing of face masks as a political issue. Enough said. Sigh. 

 

Are You Human? Neither am I! - July 11, 2020

For a few decades, I have had a statue of my desk of Jesus holding up his head, clearly overwhelmed.  The title of the statue is: Jesus wept.  This is often considered the shortest sentence in the Gospels, depending on the particular language of your Bible. Jesus was weeping over the death of his friend, Lazarus. It is a popular understanding of Jesus that he would cry for those ee loved. We can often picture Jesus overcome with sorrow and sadness. The central religious image we have of Jesus is his crucifixion. It is our major religious symbol. He died for us.

Yet, there is an another picture which adds to our understanding of Jesus. Have you ever considered this?

 

Jesus with a happy baby. We see it and we smile. I don't have a statue or photo of this image so I had to find one on the internet. It is a necessary reminder that, despite all the stuff that gets us down, we have a God who wants to raise us up. We often focus so much on the divinity of Jesus, the sufferings of Jesus - that we can give no attention to the human Jesus. That is part of the complexity of Jesus that we each need to identify with as well. (excuse the horrible grammar in the last sentence)

Earlier today, I was rushing while in front of the keyboard, not a new experience. I typed in the web address to begin writing today's post in my blog. Neither the user word nor the password were being accepted. The blasted program told me emphatically that it is did not recognize either the username or the password. I tried all possible combinations. I thought that a malefactor had messed up my computer. I uttered to myself short phrases which may not be found in the Catechism. Finally, getting more frantic and blood pressure rapidly rising, I called customer support. Spoke with a very nice person. She checked it out and placed me on hold.  While on hold, I went through my prior actions on the keyboard and discovered that I was trying to use a totally different program than the blogging program. This nice person on customer support came back on line. I told her that I was sorry, I am an idiot who rushes too much, and I apologized for taking up her time. She is a nice person. I am an idiot. She burst out laughing. 

When this episode ended, I laughed at myself and said, "Jim, you're human and often you don't like or realize that." I laughed at myself and to myself and began this post. Sigh.  Not a bad thing to realize. May it not be a rare discovery.

 

 

 

 

 

I Cannot Tell a Lie - Why we respect George Washington - July 10, 2020

 

There has always been something compelling about the stories of George Washington as a boy chopping down a cherry tree. His father confronted him - and somehow tales went on through the centuries that George Washington told the truth. Washington was seen as the example of integrity. Over time, the narrative about Washington was less about cherry trees and more about the connections between public greatness and private virtues. Historians gently suggest that Washington did not cut down the cherry tree. 

As I think about people, especially leaders, who are known for greatness, there is often a connection with their private virtues.  Sometimes the greatness is found with their private virtues. Sometimes, there is little or no connection - and that is sad.  I was thinking during the tropical storm today about this question. (I do odd things when I'm in a blinding storm.) I thought of the people I know whom I consider great.  To a person, they have strong private virtues as well. It is such a privilege to know them. They may not know it, but they always inspire me to be better and to do more. 

Public Greatness - Private Virtues. They belong together - and when they're not connected, it is time to look at things. Jesus reminded us about the light hidden under a bushel basket. Not a bad life principle to let good things shine - and wipe away the bad things. Sometimes, it is hard to do - but well worth doing. This is even more important than a cherry tree. Heck, this even applies to politicians. 

 

Beginning This Blog - Ready or not (this is addressed to me, not you!) - July 9, 2020

Since the pandemic started, I've sat at the keyboard and began to write this blog - and started and stopped and started and stopped, ad infinitum (I have no idea what ad infinitum means).  Looking at my schedule the past few months, I've actually done a lot of things, but my mind was certainly on auto-pilot. I did the best I could. Now I'm trying to begin again. Here is the clearest empirical indicator of what this means: Since the pandemic started, and even before, I stopped using the word "Good" before these words: morning, afternoon, evening, and night. Over the last several days, I unconsciously started using the word "Good" again. Full disclosure - my not using the word and my using the word was not totally influenced by the pandemic. But it was a happy coincidence and meaningful.

I finally said to myself, "enough of this." Listen to what you preach. Where is your hope? Where is your joy? Do the best you can. You're not perfect (please keep those last three words confidential.)

I carefully dissociate myself with those who use words like "restarting" and act as if this pandemic is not real, does not need our total attention and vigilance, and who act as if science is simply a form of fiction. If those people use the same words that I do at times, I just want you to know that I'm not like those people.

I'm taking a chance announcing a daily blog. The "daily" pressure to write has always been a struggle in the best of times. But I will give it everything I can. Maybe over time, some of the circumstances in my life will ease up a bit and I won't feel as much stress. Or maybe, I just need to handle "me" better! Or a combination of both.

My final words for this new beginning: God help me - that is not a risk, it is a conviction.