One Way Trip Upstream

One Way Trip Upstream by debgrant

It occurred to me this morning that I have a lot in common with a salmon swimming upstream. Salmon return to home upstream in kinder waters to spawn. Some get eaten along the way. For all of them, it is a one-way trip. They leave their seeds and die. My commonality with them is metaphoric and true. My biological clock stopped long ago. There are no children in my past, my present, or my future. Those were my choices. With a few exceptions of embarrassing moments when I pout out loud about not being anyone’s first priority, I deal with it. Like the salmon, I am on a one-way trip and instead of going with the flow of despair and death, I choose to swim upstream and sow seeds.

In a recent article by Rebecca Solnit in The Guardian, she made a powerful case for what many of us know to be true - that the Zombie Apocalypse has incrementally become us. We are in a pandemic of isolation. We are disconnected from each other. I don’t have to go into all the layered reasons why (technological devices, the tech giants, and workplace changes are huge players). The current we are all caught in is powerful and swimming against it to find kinder waters is daunting. Solnit ends her article with the following:

I hear stories of young people consciously rejecting smart phones and online life, and finding ways to connect in person - but they’re salmon swimming upstream. Their resistance is valiant, but individual will is far from adequate to escape the grasp of these corporations and recommit to the fading world of here and now and embodied and gregarious. I don’t have a sweeping solution, but I think recognising that one of our deepest human desires is to connect, to belong, to be at home, and that doing so is made up of innumerable small in-person acts, might be a start.

I am swimming upstream and I know that it is a one-way trip but I have to try. I know I will die trying. The seeds I sow are little pieces of myself. I spent a chunk of my working life sowing seeds of Gospel words in sermons pulled through my experiences, flavored with my sinful and saintly self. On a good day, I was brave enough to let go of needing an encouraging pat on the back. On other days, my ego pouted or made more of a compliment than was needful. Basically, I just kept sowing.

The seeds I sow now are little pieces of myself in small conversations with people while walking my dog or having my hair cut. I like to ask people if they like their job. It almost always sparks a story, a momentary in-person human connection. The opportunities for in-person conversations over a cup of coffee or a meal are feasts of eye-contact, laughter, tears, wisdom, and human excellence. I am encouraged to keep swimming upstream.

I make little pieces of art to give away. Inspired by another art activist named Lourdes Bernard, I have begun making boxes of 50 little pieces of art to display in places like schools or churches - the art is free with the condition that the pieces are eventually given away in person to a loved one, co-worker or stranger for the purpose of compassion, gratitude or love. I have sent out 100 pieces so far with more requests for boxes in the queue. I don’t know what kind of soil my seeds will find. It does feel like like an upstream journey of despair sometimes. There are others who do much different, more important work than me and lead far more connected lives. Making comparisons and giving into the judgment of my internal voice saps my strength. The comparisons happen. All I can do is to recognize the futility of that quickly and just keep swimming.

I trust there are more of us upstream swimming salmon who know that is tiring work and a one-way trip. Today I hope this offering is a seed of encouragement for your own journey. Never underestimate “the innumerable small and in-person acts” that might offer the sweet connection of human life long after our journey is done.

peace,

debgrant