This week, I witnessed two disturbing scenes that I can’t seem to shed. The first: in Penn Station, a man was acting like a zombie — bent in half, at an odd angle, seemingly just frozen there, with eyes that were completely vacant. His body seemed to be suspended like a marionette from the ceiling. Landon explained he was probably on this opioid people are calling “the zombie drug,” cut with pet tranquilizers. When you live in New York, you see all kinds of mayhem and tragedy on a weekly basis, but this shook me in a way I can’t explain: the baldness of his pain on display in Moynihan Hall, while busy travelers hurried to their platforms. The next day, a cyclist was struck a few minutes from my home. I happened to be driving by; he was already surrounded by good samaritans calling for an ambulance and tending to his substantial injury, but I — my God. I just couldn’t stop thinking about either of those two men, about how they were probably in the depths of personal hells I cannot even fathom. I thought of Mary Oliver, as I often do, drawing her words into my palm like prayer beads: “Tell me about your despair, yours, and I will tell you mine. / Meanwhile the world goes on. / Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain / are moving across the landscapes, / over the prairies and the deep trees, / the mountains and the rivers. / Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, / are heading home again.” Meanwhile the world goes on. Such a cruel and reassuring fact of life. I write this from a place of observation, not insight. Even many years after I have dispensed of the just world fallacy, I am still struck senseless by the tragic. But then — what good comes of dwelling on the dark side of the equation? So I drew my consolations around me. I reminded myself of the many miracles that happen on a daily basis. I thought of the good stuff that reveals itself over time, making life — if not fair, then at least balanced-out in some cosmic or karmic way. Things like hard work and good intentions. Things like Tuesday morning generosities in the checkout line, pocket-change kindnesses at the turnstile. People making space for one another on the train, the good samaritans who know what to do in emergencies. The soft word that arrives at just the right moment.
Onward, Magpies —
Reminding myself to drive gently today, in ways literal and metaphoric —
Sunday Shopping.
+RUN — Rhoback is offering 20% off sitewide today only. Now’s the time to grab those shorts I’ve been raving about if you haven’t, or to treat your man to a polo!
+Two popular skincare buys among Magpie the past few days: these cleansing, toning, and moisturizing wipes (really cut through SPF and makeup and sweat) and this anti-itch cream. Great summer buys.
+Chic stripes over at Me + Em here and here.
+Speaking of chic stripes, I’ve been noticing a microtrend of striped pants this summer. I wish I hadn’t missed out on these in my size (I can attest the fit is great on these pants — also available in a few solids and I love the white). Loving these and these as alts…
+Big warehouse sale at Rag + Bone. Don’t miss these ultra-soft pull-on jeans (soft as sweatpants) or this $60 sweatshirt!
+I had to order this striped athletic skirt. SO CUTE.
+Two pairs of shorts I’ve been reaching for a lot the past few weeks: these ginghams and this white linen eyelets. Both under $130.
+My best friend had one of these in her daughter’s room for hats and I immediately ordered it — on sale right now! So cute. Also part of the sale: these adorable hooded towels. A great baby gift! (I also noticed this petite kids desk and matching bedside table are discounted!)
+Cutest jammies to pack if you’re traveling for FOJ! (And for the kids: these! I got them for Hill.)
+Saw this cover-up on two women at the pool (along with a lot of these sunhats — love the one with the fish motif!) over the weekend. I might need to follow suit. The cover up is ADORABLE.
+Speaking of fish motif: how fun is this suit? I own this in two prints. A great, stretchy, soft, comfortable swim material in a flattering/full coverage fit. If you’re looking for something more…industrial strength (lol), try this (use code JEN15).
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Hi friend. I am so very sad for what you witnessed recently. Living in Seattle, we heartbreakingly see people in this “zombie” state everyday; it is a fact of our days. But as you said, to see someone’s pain laid so bare for all to see, and we navigate past them, as if they were a pesky pigeon…it is a true shock. I too was in utter shock when I first experienced this, and I’ve still never gotten used to it- and truthfully I hope I never do. I hope I never harden myself to obliviousness, or callousness. I hear people saying the most dehumanizing things about these people, and I want to say: But this is someone’s beloved child, mother, friend.. or: you are only one great misfortune away from that being you… There but for the Grace of God go I.
Jen, I hope you don’t think I come here to compete with your experience (I see it too! Everyday!!)… I came to sit with you in this soul wrenching experience, and to thank you for being you. You are the tonic to those who can only offer distance and coldness to these anguished souls. It reminds me of the James Baldwin quote: “I imagine one of the reasons people cling to their hates so stubbornly is because they sense, once hate is gone, they will be forced to deal with pain.” I suspect this is also true of allowing ourselves to open too fully to another’s suffering. When I was studying with my priest a few years ago for my baptism, she said, “God never promised to take away the suffering, He promised He would always be in it with us.” That feels true. I like to think that when you, or I, see someone in the state of sheer misery you described, we are sitting in it with them, if only for a second.
I am so happy and lucky I am your friend, and get to experience some of the light you give to the world! Biggest hugs and lots of love. XOXOXO Jessica
Aw – thank you so much, Jessica! I appreciate the generous thoughts and solidarity and compassion. I love the idea that we are “sitting in it” with other people when we bear witness to them. Onward!
xx
Jen, i am saddened to read this and yet have also heard about the zombie drugs mostly in Seattle and LA and I have seen it in LA the past few times I’ve been.
In Denver too. It isn’t the same city as the one I grew up in. Neither is Aurora or Boulder or even Aspen…Aspen becoming more pretentious and secluded. The rest of CO becoming more trendy in ways I don’t appreciate or agree with.
Yet you are also correct, the sun still sets. The moon rises. The birds and bees and other creatures continue about their lives. You know in Shrinking they talk about this. After a horrific accident which happens to to them it does not affect the paramedics or others who move forward.
I guess that might be way someone recently told me i dont express emotion in my body language. I was only there for 1 reason. Not for paying attention or fixing the rest of their lives. I am thankful i am not a licensed anything.
I know in my own profession/career i have witnessed great sadness. And my current position going into people’s homes asking the most personal questions…you really have no idea how others live until you go into their home. I guess that’s what happens when one is clinical and in medicine and blends bioethics with it. You see families at their most vulnerable times. In the ICU, at the rehab facility, or at the memorial because at some point we all die.
And yet…life still moves forward!
And in my own little community. I was reminded to look at it from a place of love to not feel crowded out by people who don’t live here.
I am very protective of my little village
And the city and state i grew up in. And LA will forever be my favourite and love of my life when it comes to cities.
Onward!
Thank you, Michelle! I appreciate the lovely note and solidarity!
xx