Month: October 2018

Yesterday I had the privilege of taking a poetry class. And, while it was fun and full of inspiration, I was also reminded of how much I don’t know about the writing craft. The teacher did state, “in order to be better writers, we have to read A LOT.” So there’s one thing I’m doing right!

I’ve loved to read for as long as I can remember. Reading entertains, teaches, creates connection, and it can provide a healthy distraction from the often harsh reality called “Life”.

Today I’d like to share a short list of books I’ve enjoyed recently, and why. These books have enabled me to broaden my horizons, learn and, hopefully, grow.

So without further ado, and in no particular order, here’s the list:

Plant Dreaming Deep by May Sarton. I could say a lot about Ms. Sarton, because she was certainly an interesting person. But in order to keep this post to a practical length, I’ll be somewhat brief. May (Eleanore Marie) was a prolific writer of poetry, fiction and memoir. Possibly what strikes me most about her writing in Plant Dreaming Deep, which is one of several of May’s published journals, is that it’s so, well, interesting. Her writing about writing, gardening, entertaining and being entertained- basically the mundane things of her day-to-day existence, really held my interest and I frequently found myself reading “just one more page.”

Mink River by Brian Doyle. As a reader of The Sun magazine, I became familiar with Mr. Doyle’s work in the form of essay and short story. And I liked what I read. Mink River is rich prose! It is a story of a fictional coastal town in Oregon that is at once realistic and fantastical. I found myself frequently rereading sections, in an effort to take in all the lyrical beauty of his writing. Brian was the master of the short story as well as a deep and often unconventional thinker. Unfortunately, Mr. Doyle was diagnosed with a brain tumor and died within a year of diagnosis. He was 60 years old. Before his diagnosis he wrote “Cancer is to be endured, that’s all”. I couldn’t agree more.

In The Realm of Hungry Ghosts by Gabor Mate. I could go on and on about this book and it’s author, but will, again, attempt to be brief. This man has done hard things well. No, he has done very hard things very well. Hungry Ghosts is a book about addiction that somehow applies to all of us, in my opinion anyway. Dr. Mate spent a few decades in the Portland District in Vancouver B.C.;  an area rife with poverty, addiction and mental illness. His writing tells the hard hitting truth with incredible empathy. He levels the field as he confides about his own addictions (to obsessive purchasing of classical music CDs, among other things). I had the amazing opportunity to hear Dr. Mate speak last year at an addictions conference and was impressed with his seemingly effortless wisdom, but most of all with his humility.

Here If You Need Me by Kate Braestrup. Kate is a phenomenal writer whose memoir certainly held my attention. Her husband Drew, a trooper with the Maine State Police had big plans for a second career. After his retirement from the force he would attend seminary and become a minister. Meanwhile, Kate planned to combine her writing with being a minister’s wife. Then one morning, Drew was killed instantly when a fully loaded box truck smashed into the driver’s side of his cruiser. Kate was left with their four young children (ages 3 through 9) and enough grief to last a lifetime. Then, she makes the extraordinary decision to live out Drew’s dream. She attends seminary and becomes an ordained Unitarian Universalist minister and is hired as chaplain to the Maine Warden Service. One of my favorite lines from the book is: “I can’t make those two realities- what I’ve lost and what I’ve found- fit together in some tidy pattern of divine causality. I just have to hold them on the one hand and on the other, just like that.” I have eager plans to read more of Ms. Braestrups’ work!

So this, my last book to tell you about, blew me away. And I’m not exaggerating. It is (drumroll) Tattoos On The Heart by Gregory Boyle. Boyle is a Jesuit priest and his diocese is Dolores Mission located in what was, at the time, the “gang capital of the world” in East Los Angeles. Boyle’s amazing book recounts over 20 years of living with and loving gang members and their families from the barrio. “G”, as he is called by all who know and love him, writes of both the hilarious and the heartbreaking. His stories had me laughing and crying, often at the same time. I was amazed again and again, at the depth of compassion, grace and unconditional love “G” pours on his parishioners. But please don’t hear me say he paints a prettied up picture of himself or the ministry. He is, above all, painstakingly honest. If you are breathing, you need to read this book! Actually, I highly recommend that you listen to Father Boyle read it (it’s available on Audible) because his voice adds exponentially to the telling. Also, he knows Spanish and I don’t!

Happy reading!

by

I’ve started praying again, thanks to a friend’s gentle encouragement. Mostly I just recite a list of names, offering them into the air, humbly asking for…

There’s the rub, I’m not sure what it is I’m asking for. 

Help, I guess. Maybe it’s okay for it to be that simple. And to continually remind myself that I don’t know what help looks like.

I prayed for almost 50 years and then I stopped. I just couldn’t make it fit: all my asking with all the chaos and pain around me. In me.

In fact, it seemed the more I prayed, the worse things got. So I stopped. Because it felt futile and more than just a little disappointing.

I had been taught that “prayer changes things”. That such change could be wrought if one just prayed often enough, long enough, and in the right way. 

C.S. Lewis said something along the lines of “I pray because I don’t know what else to do.” Even as I write (my paraphrase of) his words, my eyes fill. Because, yes, me too.

So here I am, invoking the name of Jesus over and around and through my simple list of names. No idea, really, if it makes any difference. No expectation of things changing. Certainly no sense of hope in a specific outcome. I try, again, to let go of it all: difference, change, outcome. I try, again, to hold onto just one thing: hope.

Because I don’t know what else to do.

by

What words?

Such devastation, death, despair. My heart hurts. The pain and suffering in the world seems too hard to bear. What can we, what should we do? No, what can I, what should I do?

There’s no simple answer of course. That seems to be the way of things. 

The things that come to mind, those things I can do, seem so inadequate, trite almost. Yet I will continue to act when and where I can and trust that it all matters. Trust that every kind word and smile and act and gesture does indeed make a difference. Trust that every loving thought and each heartfelt prayer counts. Because, if not, then I too must give way to despair. And that I refuse to do.

So here, humbly, I will list a few things on my heart’s “to do” list:

Love those I’ve been given to love. No matter what.

Listen, intentionally, with my heart.

Stay present (to me this means, hang in there without trying to fix).

Share my authentic self with others. It’s beyond time to drop the pretense and find connection in our common human struggles.

Be kind. I know we hear this a lot these days (rightly so, in my opinion), but I think kindness is perhaps needed now more than ever. And all kindness counts, no matter how seemingly insignificant. Trust that.

Withhold judgment. A challenge, I know. But this simple intention has been life changing for me. 

Of course this isn’t an extensive list, I’m sure you could add your own “to do’s”. So I invite you to do just that in the Comments section. I truly would love to hear from you!

by

I had big plans to write a few posts this weekend but I’m too distracted by the aesthetics of my blog! Remember (if you read my post about my intentions for writing) how I claimed the aesthetics weren’t a primary concern? Yeah well.

I signed in on Thursday and saw what I imagine you see: social media icons before and after each post. Aarrgghh! I cannot get them removed. Not yet anyway. And it frustrates me because it goes straight to “what will people think?”. To me, it looks like I’m that little girl of years ago, the one who still lives inside me, jumping up and down and yelling, “Please share my blog!!”.

And I don’t want to look like that needy little girl. But I am that needy little girl. However, I rarely yell; it’s not my M.O. 

So, I will try to get those dang icons removed (and fix their layout on the home page), but in the meantime, I will write and you, if you want, can follow or share, or both!

by