Here I sit on this last day of March. It is a cold gray morning and I have the heat turned up. I must say this month proved to be a disappointing cold sandwich with only a sliver of nice weather in the middle. As expected and per the idiom, March came in like a lion with roaring winds and biting cold. We had a mix of snowstorms and warm sunny days as the month progressed (you know typical transition weather) and I’m sure I’m not the only one who, with the appearance of the daffodils, got excited for the end of March lamb-like weather. Unfortunately, it was all lion again. Frigid cold temperatures, blustery winds, and snow squalls closed out the final days of the month. All this wind got me thinking and I can’t help but wonder if there is a lesson to be learned.

The wind has the power to both comfort and destroy. A gentle breeze can make us feel relaxed. I love nothing more than lounging in my hammock on a breezy day listening to the rustling of leaves. However, on the days when it is strong enough to take my breath away, I will stay far away from the trees for fear that a branch might fall. Wind can bring about change so quickly that we are caught off guard. Just this week in Pennsylvania a snow squall with high gusting winds caused an 80 vehicle pile up. Later today the wind is expected to bring in a warm front, thunderstorms, and the first of April’s showers.

As much as I’d like to complain about the crazy weather and the fact that I’m still wearing insulated coveralls to do chores, I feel foolish doing so, because whining about it seems pathetic given humankind’s current state of affairs. How can inclement weather compete with disease, war, or potential famine?

So far the first three months of 2022 have shown us that this year is not going to be better. We saw a rise in COVID cases in January and too many of us have lost someone we love. I attended two funerals in early February. One for an adored uncle who had been battling other health issues and contracted the virus while in the hospital. The other was for a dear friend who caught it and couldn’t fight it. She spent her final weeks on life support. Both will be deeply missed by all who were fortunate enough to know them.

As if the continuation of a worldwide pandemic wasn’t enough, February saw the ever-growing tensions between Russia and Ukraine come to a head. The February 24 invasion of Ukraine by Russian forces rocked the entire world. The young country is fighting to keep its independence while trying to preserve the lives of its citizens. Now a month later, Ukraine has seen thousands of deaths and injuries, millions of refugees, and billions of dollars in infrastructure damage. Fortunately, displaced Ukrainians and their pets are finding refuge in neighboring countries such as Poland, Romania, and Hungary. Those of us who had grown up during the Cold War are feeling our dormant anxiety about the threat of WWIII rising to the surface. So far other countries have not gotten involved beyond imposing economic sanctions against Russia and supplying much-needed military and humanitarian aid to Ukraine. Time will tell which way the wind will blow. I can’t help but think of a song from my youth, an anthem of sorts for the end of the Cold War, and hope that the wind of change will bring peace to the people of Ukraine.

“Listening to the wind of change
The world is closing in
Did you ever think
That we could be so close, like brothers

The future's in the air
Can feel it everywhere
Blowing with the wind of change”

-The Scorpions, Wind of Change

Being an ocean away doesn’t mean we Americans aren’t being impacted. Pandemic-triggered problems are being further exacerbated by the war abroad. Inflation had already been affecting us, but now we are experiencing even higher housing, food, and gas prices. Too many people are noticing the strain of stretching their dollars. Now there is talk of a possible food shortage here in the U.S. as well as around the world. On March 28, 2022, President Joe Biden and Press Secretary Jen Psaki made statements regarding the food supply. The shortage is “gonna be real,” said President Biden, while Psaki stated, “We’re not expecting a food shortage here, at home, but we do anticipate that higher energy, fertilizer, wheat, and corn prices could impact the prices of growing and purchasing critical food supplies for countries around the world.“ Whether there is a shortage or higher prices, many people will undoubtedly suffer. If ever there was a time for organic community agriculture, it would be now. I’ll be doing my best to grow extra food to share.

March had me humming Wind of Change while it cut through my layers and tousled my hair. I spent more time than usual following the news and feeling a combination of guilt and gratitude as I led a life that was healthy, safe, and nourished. I’m sure it is obvious why I would feel grateful, but if you are wondering why I feel guilty, let me tell you. I feel guilty when I complain about my grocery and household bills. Yes, my dollars don’t go very far, but I am at least able to pay for everything I need while so many others aren’t. My family and pets are safe on our 7 acres of heaven while people are fleeing their homes. I have the luxury of bidding my children good night, certain that we will all see the sunrise. Sadly, too many people can’t say the same.

Disease and war and the sorrow they leave behind are part of the human experience. There’s no denying it or ignoring it. There is only living with it, for every single one of us, regardless of where or how we live, is part of a global community. Our homes may not be getting bombed, but our lives will be shaken. We may have our health but by now we all know someone who has lost theirs. So, if you are blessed with shelter, food, and the ability to watch the sunrise, I hope you take a moment to appreciate them and send up a prayer for those who aren’t.

Sunrise by Mary Oliver

You can
die for it-
an idea,
or the world. People
have done so,
brilliantly,
letting
their small bodies be bound
to the stake,
creating
an unforgettable
fury of light. But
this morning,
climbing the familiar hills
in the familiar
fabric of dawn, I thought
of China,
and India
and Europe, and I thought
how the sun
blazes
for everyone just
so joyfully
as it rises
under the lashes
of my own eyes, and I thought
I am so many!
What is my name?
What is the name
of the deep breath I would take
over and over
for all of us? Call it
whatever you want, it is
happiness, it is another one
of the ways to enter
fire.