Sundays in the Park
August is coming to an end and, goodness, what a Summer it has been. To say it’s been a tough one doesn’t even come close. We haven’t seen our families and we haven’t hung out with any friends, but it’s not just isolation we’re dealing with. July brought an onslaught of messages about my thoughts on Black Lives Matter. I ignored them. These messages revealed to me that I was, to many people, the only person of color they knew, but I was only recognized as such in these particular situations. I commiserate to a friend, “I don’t think it ever occurred to this person that I’m Filipino or brown unless this person needed something from me.” It also implied that speaking about racism, particularly the racism Black-Americans faced, was easier and safer to talk to a person of color who wasn’t Black. The layers of racism! It was a heartbreaking reality of what I, as a human being, meant to people I called friends.
Then there was Jordan who found himself more and more depleted. There was the loss of motivation and energy because of having to teach online and helping with our son’s remote kindergarten. Outside of work people also demanded his energy. Because of his profession as a cultural psychologist and his expertise in racism and intergroup conflicts we did several Zoom calls to answer people’s questions about Black Lives Matter, the police, systemic oppression. . . the whole lot. He was motivated to do the work that the world had suddenly opened themselves to, but then reality revealed that people essentially liked to hear him talk and they liked to hear my sad stories. Someone even once said, “I wished you would’ve shared more, but I know I have to earn your trust.” People are only willing to do the work up to a point and sometimes I feel they’re only willing to do it to get a good sob story out of it.
With all this going on, we had no place to retreat to. Our home became office spaces, a class room, and a playground. Even church was no longer a sanctuary. The pandemic expected too much of us as individuals, as professionals, and as parents. There was no relief in those aspects of our life and we hoped for it at church, but, that was also denied. Jordan had asked to be released from his calling or his service in our congregation. He’s still waiting. I’m serving as president in the Young Women’s organization in my congregation. I’m trying to implement things to lighten my and the other leaders’ load, but any idea I throw out basically gets snubbed because folks are freaking out about the increase of tech use in their life. I was told not to reinvent the wheel. It’s a funny critique considering the Mormon church is having everyone meet online for church and encouraging members to use a new app created by the church to stay connected. A complete reinvention of church meetings, but only approved and worth trying out because, dare I say it, it was created by men. Heaven forbid a woman comes up with an idea.
So we are exhausted with nowhere and no one to turn to. One Sunday we decided to go to the park. We found a little secluded spot in the botanical gardens amongst the maple trees and dried up hydrangeas. The park was pretty empty at 10 in the morning. We found the stillness and the quiet that we needed. We worshiped alone as a family in the sanctuary of Mother Earth. We laid in the warmth of the sun and watched the shadows of leaves and orange light dance behind eyelids closed. We picnicked on the green cool grass eating home baked banana bread topped with yogurt, maple syrup, and hemp seeds. We had found what we were looking for. So now we spend Sundays in the park, that is, until it gets cold, and we’ll need to find a new haven. But for now, it is here, alone and tucked away, where our kids can run freely and our load feels a bit lighter.
I hope you’re doing okay.
I hope you’re able to find a sanctuary.
And I hope you know that you’re not alone.
xoxo,
Victoria-Riza
UPDATE: Read I’m Back from the Mountains, an essay from a year later, revealing that the hard work on prioritizing one’s mental health can make such a difference.
I’m wearing the Wes hat from Gigi Pip, a dress from Oak and Fork, socks from Swedish Stockings, and Dr. Marten’s
