Letter from the Guest Fiction Editor:
Resting, Recovering, and Developing Resilience
by Barbara Riddle
Yes, we will gradually be rested and refreshed as we recover from the crisis of the global COVID-19 pandemic. Some routines will return to normal. Others will be utterly abandoned or reconfigured for the better. The fallout on our mental and physical selves is yet to be determined. I believe we were long overdue for corrections—social and economic and political—that the pandemic put into stark relief.
But crises come in sizes large and small, and perhaps the larger lesson is the vital importance of developing habits of resilience that will enable us to weather with grace and energy the daily slings and arrows we all encounter, as well as the huge disasters (almost certainly) yet to come. Our authors in this issue of Please See Me write about ways to cope with humiliation, addiction, boredom, death. There are so many challenges—and so many solutions. There is no right or wrong way to assuage our souls for the suffering of the world or ourselves.
In “How to Love Your Cat and Subsequently the World,” Sandi Sonnenfeld describes how a connection to the natural world—here, in the form of her cat—can foster the stillness and mindfulness that promote healing.
“Springhill Support Group,” by Kaitlyn Johnson, shows us that not all support groups achieve their goals; sometimes, the fit just isn’t there. Help will have to be found elsewhere. The search, however, should not end because one approach doesn’t work.
“Progress and Evolve,” by Nancy Graves Wahler, again takes us to nature for portents of healing and a reminder that we can find inspiration in the traditions of cultures other than our own to craft a recovery story that works for us. We are all humans, aren’t we?
The narrator’s voice in Alvaro Adizon’s “Ode to a Holy Dead Guy” perfectly encapsulates the weariness of caretakers stretched to the point of breaking, emptied of empathy, and nearing the dangerous flat edge of not caring about anything, unable to feel or recognize their own pain.
Finally, in “Snow Days,” Cathleen Davies tells a tale of a young girl’s trauma that will be eventually eased through the patience and understanding of a loving mother.
Whether our resilience is fostered by a mother’s love, a twelve-step group, service to others, the mindful appreciation of a purring cat, or a renewed connection to nature, an immersion in thoughtful fiction is an excellent beginning. We at the journal wish you a restful and healing end to summer as we emerge back into a changed world with new awareness and high hopes for a healthier and more equitable future for us all.
Barbara Riddle is the guest fiction editor of Please See Me.