Being Refuges For Each Other and the Goodness of Jack: Everyday Magic, Day 1,118

I've been thinking lately about how we can be refuges of acceptance, calm,and love for each other. After all, it's been and it is a helluva time (and time out of time).

Personally, I've lost two very close friends this winter, and politically, the speed and depth of loss, chaos, and uncertainty is painful, disorienting, and terrifying.

When I think of someone who truly embodies the best we can be for each other, I think of my friend Jack Winerock. No wonder then that to celebrate his 80th birthday, Jack led a rich, inclusive, and nurturing Shabbat service this past Saturday for our Jewish community near and far (via Zoom).

Jack has long served as a calm harbor in the storm of whatever was happening and as a good witness for anyone who needed to speak. Since I met him more than 40 years ago, I've experienced so many encounters with his kindness, love, and even -- as per the poem I shared at the service -- him taking my hand to reassure me. Yes, this is what we can do for each other, and I'm so grateful for Jack.

Here is a poem I shared at the Shabbat service and dedicated to Jack.

Take My Hand

Take my hand. It’s dark,

the crickets a rolling quilt

from your childhood, the moon

an old spoon panning the sky.

No one can predict these times

even if we know the usual

hard and hard-won suspects—

grief old or fresh, pain that persists,

the ruminating rut of any good mind.

Answers we think are answers

fall away like the first catalpa leaves

in August while constellations

tilt another picture into view.

Here, take a slower breath.

I’m with you. The wind too.

The green heat that felt like

it would never let go is gone.

The rusted train of winter

is too far beyond the bend to hear.

Come to this circle of benches

to find your seat at the fire.

Feel the heat that’s enough,

the laughter that surprises,

the capacity that you carry

at all times for infinite refuge.

This is what we do for each other.

Previously published in Kairos and in Kansas Speaks Out: Poems in the Age of Me, Too, edited by Dennis Etzel and Jericho M. Hockett