This is a strange new world we are living in.
A world of distance and a world of deep connection with all humanity.
A world of fear and a world of hope.
A world of confusion and a world being deluged with facts and pseudo facts.
A world of silence and a world of "sound and fury."
So, what do we do?
How do we face each new day, peculiar though they be?
Again, I turn to Irish poet John O'Donohue whose wisdom seems to be timeless.
This is what he writes about the gift of our days:
Often it seems that we have to undertake the longest journey to arrive at what has been nearest all along.
Mornings rarely find us so astounded at the new day that we are unable to decide between adventures.
We take on days with the same conditioned reflex with which we wash and put on our clothes each morning.
If we could be mindful of how short our time is, we might learn how precious each day is.
No day belongs to us.
Each day is a gift.
Tragically, it is often only when we are about to lose a thing that the scales fall from our eyes, but it is usually too late.
... now is the time to recognize the new day with a sense of creative expectation and openheartedness.
Perhaps - even in the midst of worry and appropriate concern - we can find gifts.
We can let the scales drop from our eyes and apprehend the preciousness of this one day.
We can treat each hour, each interaction, each moment as irreplaceable.
We can sit quietly and ask the Divine to give us new eyes, soft hearts, settled souls.
We can make our actions less frenetic, more fruitful, more thoughtful, more meaningful.
And then - out of self-compassion - we can sit down and simply breathe.
Even that is a gift.
You - my readers and friends - each one of you is a gift.
I am grateful today for you.