Good Morning, Vietnam!

During the Vietnam War there was unease among American troops in country, about people you were around during everyday life, that the polite Vietnamese barber cutting your hair this morning or the friendly waiter serving your beer at the local GI bar after work could tonight be VC bombing your barracks and cutting your throat. Robin Williams' friend Tuan was an example of not knowing who people really are, or, for the surreal character of Adrian Cronauer, of not caring because you love them, and that caring can strangely, agonizingly, perversely in wartime when governments define whom we are to hate and kill, go both ways.

Personally, I didn't have those relationships or know that sort of tension at the Time. I have a Vietnam service medal and ribbon, but I was not on the ground as some of my Navy career colleagues and friends were, and many more that I got to know in later years. My service was in a WestPac deployed Navy warship that only docked in Danang harbor a few times so that I could watch American warplanes launching missiles into enemy strongholds in the mountains above us, ships company were not allowed ashore, and we had Navy divers in the water around the ship at all times, especially dark night, against enemy sappers attaching explosives to the hull.

But the barbershop has been on my mind, ὁ ἀναγινώσκων νοείτω, and also Trinh in the English class and Cronauer pursuing her and befriending her brother Tuan, and Jimmy Wah's bombed out bar, recently in our nation invisibly divided by hatred and mistrust. I didn't have a sign in my front yard.

Instead of the usual order, we seem being deliberately lured into chaos following the election, different from peaceful transitions that are the major hallmark of our democracy. I'm thinking of the 2004 election, two dear friends of mine, and of each other, talking about the race, one praising "W" and the other saying he was a Democrat for Kerry, the Bush man replying, "We gonna whup yo' ass" and everybody laughing uproariously. That spirit has died in America, or more truthfully, has been killed. There seems to be real enmity, fear, distrust. "One nation, indivisible ... " everything has changed and it's not good. What is manifesting is determination to hate, and to stir hatred.

Diocesan clergy this past week received an email forwarding an essay about self-care during tough times by a professor of counseling. The essay was a bit long and engaged $2 words, but concluded with suggestions that I am looking at with the idea of possibly helping myself somewhat, my state of mind that isn't depression, it's distress, life under a question mark, "what happened?" And Is there an element of civilization slipping away? The professor wrote related to covid anxiety, pressures, worries, but I'm having concerns about national issues, that we are being taken to a dangerous new era beyond reason and order; that this is being exacerbated by a darkness that has not previously marked our political system, and is new in America.

It's worrying, and so I'm thinking of trying on the essay's suggestions as a personal help. I have no idea they'll be of any use to anyone else, but if they help me, who knows. Here's what the professor, whose name is Doug Shirley, summarized:

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"I’d like to propose that a pandemic is not the time to try to enact “traditional” practices of self-care. Such propositions bring guilt, not rest, recovery, or any sense of belonging. As we head into the darkness of a pending fall and winter without a vaccine, I’d like to suggest the following:

Remember who you are by way of the stories of your people: What pain has come to you by way of your lineage? How can you interact in such a way that honors your ancestors and therefore your self in the process?
Toss out expectations: Place them in the recycling bin or compost pile where your desires can (re)emerge as that which orients you and brings you life. That said, don’t reach for tomorrow, today’s got enough troubles of its own.
Obligatory plans for the holiday season should be replaced with a focus on today, and on what might bring you a sense of fulfillment in the now.
Consider adopting a pet, or if you have one, reach out to them as much as you can! The touch of another living being is what we’re designed for.
Allow the phrase “It’s going to be OK” to turn from a promise that things will work out to an offering of connection and belonging with those you love.
Listen to your pain and allow it to guide you. Trade fixes for fondness. Practice saying, “This is me…” as you interact with the parts of you that struggle with the dis-ease that’s in the air and in our bodies.
Practice acknowledging your limits, for limits remind us of our need and desire for belonging and connection.

This is not a list of “things”-to-do—who needs another one of those? What I offer instead are processes to engage and take part in: practices in remembering and reconnecting. As we say in my house, “practice your patience” when needed and continue working it out."

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This morning's hymn at church

1 Judge Eternal, throned in splendor,

Lord of lords and King of kings,

with your living fire of judgment

purge this land of bitter things;

solace all its wide dominion

with the healing of your wings.

2 Still the weary folk are pining

for the hour that brings release,

and the city’s crowded clangor

cries aloud for sin to cease,

and the homesteads and the woodlands

plead in silence for their peace.

3 Crown, O God, your own endeavor;

cleave our darkness with your sword;

feed the faithless and the hungry

with the richness of your word;

cleanse the body of this nation

through the glory of the Lord.

Good morning, and God bless America.