telling or being told

[On International Women’s Day – may all women be blessed to tell their own stories]:

We think we tell stories, but stories often tell us, tell us to love or hate, to see or be seen. Often, too often, stories saddle us, ride us, whip us onward, tell us what to do, and we do it without questioning. The task of learning to be free requires learning to hear them, to question them, to pause and hear silence, to name them, and then become a story-teller.

– Rebecca Solnit, The Faraway Nearby

unsexy caring

“The really important kind of freedom involves attention, and awareness, and discipline, and effort, and being able truly to care about other people and to sacrifice for them, over and over, in myriad petty little unsexy ways, every day.”   – David Foster Wallace

[This is apparently the birthday week of the late novelist. Thanks to the Englewood Review of Books for drawing attention to the quote.]

pandemic acedia

…All of this helped defeat me acedia – mostly because it connected me with other people, and acedia thrives on dis-connection. It suggests that we roll up in a ball, because we’re all alone in the world, and no one cares. Instead  I signed up for webinars and concerts, events that I never would have been able to attend in the Before Time. I began gathering on Zoom with friends. I attended church online and found that although worship on Zoom is dreadful it’s better than nothing. All of this served to take my mind off myself and my troubles, and stop acedia’s deadly spiral of self-absorption and despair.

joy and the glory of the small

[I felt a pang on reading about the “sound of friends talking in our home,” but I hope that you are all still finding some of these small glories available…]

Joy… is a spiritual engagement with the world based on gratitude. It’s not the big things that make me grateful and bring me joy. It’s more the glory of the small: a touch, a smile, a kind word spoken or received, that first morning hug, the sound of friends talking in our home, the quiet that surrounds prayer, the smell of sacred medicines burning, sunlight on my face, the sound of birds and walking mindfully, each footfall planted humbly on the earth.

  • Richard Wagamese, Embers

this tiny plot of land

When money is the goal, everything that cannot be translated into its terms gets squeezed out. The same happens with war, of course, and with any campaign toward a grand unitary goal. If you have ever been a crusader to save the world, you may have noticed how the little things that make life rich get deprioritized and squeezed out….

Environmentalism is reduced to a numbers game. We as a society are comfortable with that, but I think the shift we must make is deeper. We need to come into a direct, caring, sensuous relationship with this forest, this mountain, this river, this tiny plot of land, and protect them for their own sake rather than for an ulterior end. That is not to deny the dangers of greenhouse gases, but ultimately our salvation must come from recovering a direct relationship to what’s alive in front of us.

  • Charles Eisenstein, The Beautiful World Our Hearts Know Is Possible