Brokenness and Connection
Reflections from the Shores of the Potomac River
Greetings Friends,
My heart felt heavy on Thursday as I listened to the unfolding story of the collision of an aircraft and a helicopter over the Potomac River.
I had spent Wednesday drafting this newsletter about my visits to the river the week before. I was excited to share the beauty and wonder of the ice, observations of the freezing and flowing river, and the warmth of sharing this experience with others along its banks.
Thursday, I had no words, I needed a pause, a moment to take in the sadness of what happened, and to mourn all those who were lost. I still feel that way. And I return to share my experience as I reflect on ways that beauty and brokenness can live side by side. The river is still a source of beauty. Right now it is also a reminder of the search and recovery efforts still underway and the loss of life Wednesday night. Amid this brokenness, connecting with each other matters.
I feel called outside in the winter by the chance to see the landscape covered in snow and ice. My walks often take me to the river.
Thursday- Sunday of last week, I visited the river multiple times each day. I went alone, with Chad, and walking and exploring with two different friends.
The awe and wonder of it inspired connections with strangers too. I had many conversations with people from all walks of life about what we were seeing. Under normal circumstances I wouldn’t have spoken to others like this but sharing this experience made it feel natural. And it was a gift to do so in a week when I needed the warmth of in person interactions and a break from news on screens.
As I reflect , it wasn’t that I was walking to get away from the news and screens, it was that I just didn’t have time for it - the wonder of the frozen river and the sheets of ice shifting with the tides was a constant preoccupation. I wanted to see how it appeared at high tide, at low tide, as the tide rose, and as it fell. This required multiple trips to the shoreline each day.
Saturday afternoon a friend and I were at the river as the rising tide caused the ice to shift and break. It was a wondrous sight - something I’ve wanted to see for years and fortuitous to be there at just the right moment. My friend compared her own sense of awe to how she felt seeing an eclipse in person.
The video below was taken last Saturday as the sheet of ice atop the Potomac River moved with the incoming tide.
I hope maybe this video today can offer a glimpse of the wonder I experienced. Part of wonder is bewilderment, something surprises or confuses us, it causes a break in our normal way of seeing. This creates an opening, and in that opening is space for connection. Connection with others, with the world around us, with a quieter and more peaceful part of our selves.
I would love to hear your experiences too.
Where are you finding beauty and sadness living side by side these days?
Where do you find connection as an antidote to a feeling of brokenness?
Today, February 1st, marks Imbolc, a Celtic celebration meaning “in the belly” and celebrating the first stirrings of spring. We are at the midpoint between the Winter Solstice and the first day of Spring.
What in your own life do you sense stirring, shifting, or changing form like the flowing of the water below the ice? What ephemeral beauty do you look forward to as we move toward longer days?
Thank you for reading, sharing, and being part of creative community through this newsletter,
Kathryn
Oh Kathryn, you are always so spot on with your reflections. I too was heartbroken by the crash. And the ice changing, like our global consciousness is shifting as well. Parts are broken, and there is sadness and yet, also an expansion, some coming together in connection from the heart, witnessing the awe and brilliance of Mother Earth, and helping each other in community with the continued changes and hardships to come.
I love all of this, Kathryn. Your words, the images, and all the connections you made - both human and ideological. Having been to Alaska and seen glaciers, I agree with you; I see those hints of blue in the ice as well. And the video is absolutely stunning. Thank you for bearing witness - to creation, to life, and to the both/andness of the world we live in, which is, at any given moment in time, both beautiful and terrible.