From the Heart of the Earth

Like much of the world, I have become captivated by the images of the Chilean miners being extracted from the mine where they have lived for two months. Like many, I have wondered about what is has been like for them to live in these close quarters with 32 companions and no sunlight. The community that has developed fascinates me. Many of them have taken on particular roles for the group—a spiritual leader, a joker, and entertainer, etc. They have developed common practices and habits based on the needs of the community.

What I’m curious about today, though, is what they are experiencing right now—individually and as a community.

During a trauma or disaster, although we have our individual experiences and perceptions, it is often the shared experience with our community that motivates us and gives us a sense of meaning and purpose. Even when there is an impending snowstorm, we all get caught up in the media coverage (When will it hit? How many inches will we get? Should we drive to work?) In our workplaces and schools and grocery stores, we connect with that shared experience by talking about the weather and asking things like, “Have you seen any snowflakes yet?”

The shared interested of the group dominates many of our individual actions and concerns. I cannot quite imagine how much more of a community has grown out of this shared experience for the miners.

But last night, everything changed. A rescuer joined them, and then a miner left. And then it became a different thing. In preparation for their extraction, the community had changed its habits—eating differently, packing up what they needed and wanted to take with them, putting clothes on. What the group had been doing changed in order to prepare the individuals for their ascent.

My guess is that the sense of community is still there, but the individual needs and perceptions are taking precedence again. What is it like for a miner who will be, say, #23 to be removed, to watch his companions leave, one by one? Is there sadness at the loss of what the group has shared? Is there loneliness? And what will it be like for #33, who waits with the rescuers to be the last of the miners to leave what has been their home?

Everything is on hold as they cease being a community, with actions based on what is best for everyone.

They have become, once again, just men—men who wait their turn for a 15-minute journey from the heart of the earth into the arms of their families and the eyes of the world

Healing Has Commenced

Over the past few days, I've found that I've been in a better mood than I've been in for a long, long time.  It isn't that I suddenly feel positive and upbeat all the time.  (Given  my disposition, I doubt that's possible!)  But I find myself amused rather than annoyed by normal things (like student issues in the classroom, dropping something on the floor, seeing dog fur on the floor).  I am observing a sense of contentment in my heart at times.  I am enjoying the beautiful fall weather.

These are signs to me that I will return to normal with time.  And that in itself is so encouraging.  Even with the finances, I'm feeling a new outlook.  The amount of money will be no different, but having that money distributed every other week, in a larger amount, feels so different from literally going week-to-week, with obligatory reminders every Sunday to go online and submit the unemployment request.  I'm not sure why, but it does--and it's such a treat to feel anything new that isn't difficult, and that in itself is encouraging.

For now, I'm watching Who Framed Roger Rabbit and Hook on this Saturday morning, while I'm enjoying my coffee and waiting for cinnamon rolls to come out of the oven.  Today, life is good.