How are you?

I ask the question knowing there’s not a simple answer.

Whenever Paul Reps, author of the book, Zen Flesh, Zen Bones was asked that question, he frequently answered, "It's complicated. Ask me what I had for breakfast. That's a question I can answer."

How are you? A complicated question and not as straightforward as we sometimes assume.

The Pandemic of 2020 is full of contradictions. These days when people ask me, “How are you, Judy?” I pause. Saying, “I’m fine,” doesn’t seem to do the question justice. On one level I am fine. I wake up healthy. I watch the sunrise, drink two cups of Market Spice Tea. I spy on crows, blue jays, and squirrels as they gather pieces of bread that I’ve tossed into the backyard. Several crows accustomed to this routine show up at the same time every morning. I get a kick out of our shared ritual. I’m grateful for this connection with nature and for the comfort and meaning of everyday joys. There’s never a dull moment in my backyard.

Feeling fine is one layer and at the same moment I’m mindful of another level of understanding that calls for recognition. Things are not fine. Grief is everywhere. People are worried, restless, lonely, sad. We’re hoping that normal will be here again and concerned that it won’t. Amidst our shared grief, we experience how vulnerable we all are and yet with grace and effort we rise to the occasion. We do our best with what we’ve got while grieving what may not return. Grief is love for what is lost. Can you feel it in the air? Sometimes crying helps. Sometimes simple helps.

What did I have for breakfast? Usually it’s the same tea and toast, maybe an egg. But on May 1, I decided to try baking an “easy” cinnamon roll recipe sent by a friend. Her’s turned out looking and tasting good. Mine turned out looking and tasting like rocks. Breakfast was complicated on May Day.

The personal slogan I apply in such situations is, “Things go wrong and things go right, things go wrong and more goes right.” I don’t know if that’s always accurate, but I’m holding onto my personal and professional experience that has taught me that more goes right. When this Pandemic has run its course, when I am still processing the angst of what we’ve been through I intend to keep it simple. The cure for complicated is simple. I’ll take myself to the French Bakery for a vanilla cappuccino and croissant. I’ll smile and laugh with the barista and say, “I missed you.” I’ll ask, “How are you? What did you have for breakfast?” I will leave a healthy, thankful tip.

Take gentle care,

Judy Ford