I have made a rather concerning, startling, upsetting, bothersome discovery, which is this: though I love to think and write about DEEP topics, I don't feel all that comfortable doing so publicly. Since that is a requirement of the blogging life, I've been doing what I often do in situations where I am uncomfortable -- I ignore the problem in the hopes that it will go away.
Oddly enough, it hasn't gone away. ERL 544 continues to nag away at me, asking me just as I am about to drift off to sleep, or when I am sitting down to breakfast, or when I am listening to my husband talk to me about ... well, I'm not really sure, "What are you going to do about the blog?" Oh, that voice! It sounds just like my mother.
I have started quite a few blog posts. One was about living a spirit-filled life, another about how freaked out I am about climate change, and another about being in the world without grandparents, but I'm just not comfortable sharing them. They are too imperfect, too impotent to do my feelings justice. Since I seem stymied by this blogging topic, I feel the best course of action is to start fresh with a blog which I will actually enjoy, in all its imperfection. I hope you like it, and thanks for understanding!
Everlasting Why
Tuesday, September 23, 2014
Sunday, September 14, 2014
Sweet Ramona
This weekend I met a new friend named Ramona. Up until Friday at around 3PM she lived inside my dear friend and co-worker Noelle, and now here she is in the big world. To visit Ramona, I had to have a security guard check my ID, because that's the sort of world we live in. I didn't mind a bit.
Babies are magic. All babies are magic, even when they're squalling and stinky. All babies are magic, whether they are born in the pretty labor and delivery section of Maine Medical Center or the squalor of Dhaka. When I held Ramona, I wondered how many other babies had come into the world that day and I wondered if they could possibly be loved as much as her mom and dad and brother and grandma and grandpa and cousins and aunties and uncles and I love Ramona. It doesn't seem possible but it probably is.
I also thought about what I would tell Ramona about the world. I know she's just a baby and can't understand English - one look into those sweet unfocused eyes was enough to show me that - but what if she could? What wisdom would I impart upon my young friend if I could?
Be Where Your Feet Are.
Babies are magic. All babies are magic, even when they're squalling and stinky. All babies are magic, whether they are born in the pretty labor and delivery section of Maine Medical Center or the squalor of Dhaka. When I held Ramona, I wondered how many other babies had come into the world that day and I wondered if they could possibly be loved as much as her mom and dad and brother and grandma and grandpa and cousins and aunties and uncles and I love Ramona. It doesn't seem possible but it probably is.
I also thought about what I would tell Ramona about the world. I know she's just a baby and can't understand English - one look into those sweet unfocused eyes was enough to show me that - but what if she could? What wisdom would I impart upon my young friend if I could?
Be Where Your Feet Are.
Thursday, August 28, 2014
A Transitory Yes
"By the side of the everlasting Why there is a Yes--
a transitory Yes if you like, but a Yes.”
This quote from A Room With A View by E.M.Forster - which, thanks to the exquisitely beautiful film version, is often misquoted as, "At the side of the everlasting Why there is a Yes! and a Yes! and a Yes!" - speaks to the great questions of the world: Why are we here? What is our purpose? Is there meaning to life? The "transitory Yes" feels like hope - yes, we are here for an important reason, yes we have a greater purpose, yes, in the face of all the pain and injustice that exists, there is meaning to life.
This blog is a place for me to ask those big questions, and maybe even answer some of them; though I submit that questions are far more important than answers.
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