Mondays are just young Fridays

I like to begin each week, each day in fact, with a positive thought. I like to open the week, on this site, with a piece that sets the mood.
I, generally, like Mondays. I try to set a tone or spirit that -—no matter how bothered I may be about something or another — will carry me through the days ahead.
I always believe that Mondays are just young Fridays.
This week begins on the wrong tempo; the timing is not right.
There’s a lot of crap going on right now, and the escalation of a deadly virus is at the top of the list. COVID-19 continues to spread and too many people, for too many months, have ignored obvious signs and allowed this thing to happen.
I’m fearful. I am sickened by what is going on over time.
Tuesday, I was to take part in a local poetry event that was part of a much bigger thing, but I made the decision yesterday to step away. I believe in the power of poetry, but I cannot venture out into an environment where this virus is spreading with the ignorance of those who do not believe in the reality that this thing kills.
My home province, and more specifically my home city, is reporting a surge in cases not seen since May.
In early May I was essentially self-isolating, and now I will be doing the same thing.
I refuse to go into a place where I’m unsure whether anybody takes simple precautions and maintains physical distancing or, at least, wears a mask. We all need to do our part to stop COVID-19 from spreading.
Right now, in addition to all the problems created by inefficient governments (on so many levels, in so many countries), the face mask and personal safety have become politicized.
This is not the time.
It is about shame, fear, and lack of respect for human life.
Yes, I am fearful.
On Wednesday, I was to set the pace for HOMECOMING MONTH, a planned month on this page where a number of writers from across this globe were to contribute their thoughts on home.
I thought I had 17 writers lined up to participate. As of yesterday, only one submission arrived from those who committed in July. There was no firm deadline, but it was expected they’d have something in by mid-September.
Each year, sometimes a couple of times a year, I open up the pages of Mythos & Marginalia to other writers and we look at certain themes. I like the feeling of community.
I’ve been considering a group project like HOMECOMING MONTH for years. I thought it might make this great big world a little bit smaller. After such a dismal spring, with travel restrictions and people sticking close to home, I felt October would be ideal. I thought people would have time to think about home.
Obviously this was not the time.
I think everybody who was to be involved is, like me, caught up in the doubt and disbelief that something like this pandemic could be happening, like it is or how it is.
I don’t blame anybody for not contributing.
I think we all have bigger things on our minds. COVID-19 is the biggest worldwide crisis to come along in decades. No, I’m not ignoring climate change, but I think the immediate and ever-increasing body count of this virus has grabbed our attention.
Anxiety is ever present. Fear for our incomes, livelihood, and the safety of our families is obvious.
So, we’ll put Homecoming Month on hold for a while. We will wait for the right time. This writing community has more pressing things to deal with.
I understand. We are all dealing with something we could not have imagined a year ago.
I wish you all peace, love, and safety. Please take care of yourself.

Not to be deterred, on Thursday I will begin Come On Home, an eleven-day online journaling workshop. This free workshop was intended as a sidebar to Homecoming Month, and I’m not going to abandon these plans.
I believe there is plenty to write about and, in times like these, you should be writing.
If you’d like more information on this free workshop, or would like to join us, please email soultalk@mythosandmarginalia

deep peace
-j-

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