On Inauguration Day

On inauguration day I woke in the wee hours of the morning feeling unsettled and a bit disoriented.

Around 5 AM, I rose and headed to a favorite spot. I lit a candle in the dark. I meditated on “look for beauty.” Several recent instances came to mind, and I wrote them down.


I turned to the quotidian tasks of being mom. As my girls entered the kitchen, I confessed, “I feel melancholy, I feel sad” on this inauguration day.

My daughter stated her oft-repeated sentiment, “I am going to tell my kids I had nothing to do with this election.” Her generation offers me hope.

I sat down and I began to write, because that is my habit and my refuge.

My heart and mind turned toward a planned walk with a neighbor and her baby. Each time I look into the face of this baby girl, hope soars. I returned to the words of an author who spoke out loud my own heart so beautifully.

On inauguration day, the gray and dreary conditions outside echo the melancholy within. It was my turn to drive the carpool today, and so I did. My church is situated along our route and the chimes reverberated just as we passed by.

I stopped at a community gathering spot and got something warm to drink. I headed home, re-lit my candle, and set myself up by the fireplace. Rather than tune into radio or television, I choose quiet and stillness on this day.

On this inauguration day, I grieve, but not without hope. There is much work to do.


PS I highly recommend the above linked writing by Rachel Held Evans on 2016 and the risk of birth. Lovely.