March 11, 2021. One year anniversary since the pandemic was officially declared here and when we were first asked to shelter in place. Each day for the past 13 years, I have been inviting others to witness every sunrise and sunset with me, ringing a bell as a way to mark and share that moment with ever more people. This activity has been my attempt to heighten a sense of awareness of our connection to one another through the regular engagement with a reliable and indisputable fact of common experience— i.e. the turning of the planet through the experience of sunrise and sunset. The pandemic has provided a horrible opportunity for us all to acknowledge this interconnection. It has also shown very clearly the many ways in which our ignorance (willful and otherwise) as well as the lack of identification with all other people has continued to endanger and exacerbate the inequalities and suffering in the lives of most people on the planet. As small, insignificant and ineffective as this daily practice of witnessing the sunrise and sunset may be in the face of such global upheaval and contentiousness, it was still necessary for me to commit to a loud, public and reliable marking of a truly universal experience and perspective during this time. Same time, same place, every day. So, for the past 365 days we have been gathering at the end of the driveway to ring a large, loud bell at sunset every evening. Last August I drove to the East Coast to spend time with my father for his last birthday and his expected final days on this earth. In my absence, my husband, Norman Tuck, continued to drag the bell out every night so that we could maintain the commitment to reliability of SOMETHING. ANYTHING. The tolling of the bell has signified many things at once – commemoration of those who have died as well as acknowledgment of the courage and sacrifice of the many others who made it possible for everyone else to keep going. It has afforded those within hearing range of the bell an opportunity to share the moment in the company of others- sometimes in person with masks and gongs and poetry. In the end, I hope this activity has served as a daily beacon and a source of comfort, signaling and sharing our presence at the end of the day.
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