During WWI, soldiers stuck in tight mazes of trenches partially filled with rank putrid water & surrounded by atrocities took to sky-gazing as a means of coping. Above seemed the only direction to look to avoid seeing unmentionable horrors & nightmarish scenes. There’s a reason Jay Gatzby & Nick Carraway first connect over their service in WWI, both forever marked psychologically by what they had witnessed & had done. Times of chaos, uncertainty, & death irrevocably change you. Stein called those affected by WWI “The Lost Generation,” not so much because they didn’t know who they were but because there was a heavy, looming, pervasive feeling of loss–loss of innocence, loss of the world they once knew, loss of humanity in the things seen & done. Tremendous loss.

Recent days have ushered us into another kind of time, a time of unpredictable instability & anxiety. Especially for those of us who live with clinical anxiety. We fear that loss once again.

As I think about our current crisis, this terrible pandemic, where most of us (read: should be ALL of us) honoring the quarantine are finding ourselves looking out of the same windows at the skies, I know familiar views can offer steadiness in the midst of constant change. As clouds endlessly move & the sun continually shifts position, creating ever-changing horizons & spectacularly colored canvases, I feel like I can start to understand why those soldiers needed those skies. When locked down or tethered to one geographic location, indefinitely without change, the mind demands an escape. Nature offers to us the reminder that the world is still there. Something bigger is THERE. These things have come before & they will come again afterwards; it’s how we cope that allows us to persist.

This sense of continuity & permanency does provide me with some comfort, particularly when I can know that the others I love are looking up at the same sky, no matter the distance, no matter the different setting.

You may have seen some of these images before, but I assemble many of them again together here to show how the same windows can provide so many different views, varying sights, changing features. It’s amazing to me that these views can change so dramatically. You can notice similar trees & the same mountains in the distance, & yet so many different colors, features, kinds of beauty. The beauty can come of hardship–like freezing temperatures, inclement weather, foreboding clouds, massive winds, blistering heat. And these extremes can yield such beauty if we only pause to notice. We can ground ourselves in that knowledge that life contains beauty & hope, no matter the darkness that comes.

As we keep hope in our hearts, please look for the ways in which to incorporate more of the natural world in your confined life, as I will. I’m planning to write & blog more, after a regrettably long hiatus necessitated by academic writing & work engagements that absorbed most of my mental & creative bandwidth. Yet, I return here to reconnect. Even as an introvert, I still do need other people, connection to the bigger world. Humans are social creatures after all. This quarantine will gift me the time for creativity in a way I didn’t have previously.

And, so, dear reader, I hope to continue to connect with you through this blog. Please stay well & find ways to promote self-care. What helps you the most during such an unpredictable time?