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Beauty In Transition
“In the space between chaos and shape there was another chance.” — Jeanette Winterson, The World and Other Places: Stories As sometimes happens on damp winter days in the Midwest, this day started with a spectacular sunrise. The cerulean sky was embellished with extravagant ribbons of fuchsia and amber. The very tree tops were ablaze with color. It lasted 60 seconds. Maybe two minutes. We have previously discussed the uncomfortable nature of being in the hallway. Of how challenging it can be moving between two places mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. So disagreeable in fact, that at times, we race past it as quickly as the situation will allow. We take the first option offered to us…
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Inner Work
I started writing in response to what Parker J. Palmer defines as “inner work” in his book, Let Your Life Speak: Listening for the Voice of Vocation. As opposed to the outer work of our vocations, obligations, or hobbies, inner work is the work of attending to our spirits. I felt called to write. I felt (and ignored) this calling for some time, allowing it to wander about with me like a devoted pet. Finally, I listened. While it might seem that outer work is a requirement of life and inner work is optional, that is not true. Inner work links us to our emotions, spirits, and the places in our gut that drive our actions. Engaging with or leading others…
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Lucky and Blessed
Under the category of things I haven’t figured out (yet) is the distinction between lucky and blessed. People seem to use those words interchangeably, their choice seemingly owing to their comfort in explaining that which they experience, but for which they are not directly responsible. Regardless of attribution, these moments, where the universe conspires in our favor, present themselves like a camera lens coming into crisp focus. The arduous is simplified. The elusive is revealed. The obstacle is removed. In these moments, we are grateful. This gratitude begets a desire to honor the gift, acknowledge the fortune. Do we say we are lucky because we can’t abide the thought of a deity who plays favorites? Do we say…
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Fast. Slow. Colorful.
Time is an abstraction of eternity. A glimpse, for mortals, of what could be if we spend ours wisely in life. — Dean Cavanaugh The more desperately we want something to occur, the longer it seems to take. Time expands with our desire. We count the minutes waiting for the phone to ring, the storm to pass, or the plane to land. As though by clock watching, we can accelerate ourselves through uncomfortableness. Ironically, we often experience the opposite sensation. The more we focus on that we wish to avoid, the more present we are to it. Like the proverbial rough tooth that draws the tongue, the obsessive thought grows and eclipses the…
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Dogs and Humans
My husband, W, had a heart attack on New Year’s Eve. Thankfully, he’s recovering well after the miraculous procedure of inserting multiple stents into two arteries. We say he’s bionic now. What’s been interesting is how our dog, Roux, has responded to his convalescence. Roux prefers to lay next to W on the couch with his head resting on W’s leg. Or on the floor at W’s feet. We have taken to calling him a therapy dog. I know Roux is not unique in this nurturing trait. Reports abound of canines demonstrating unconditional love and companionship. There are movies showcasing heroic dogs in service to the military and law enforcement agencies. Or dogs who drag people…
