Sunday Best – June 23, 2024
Sometimes it’s the big news that makes a week great – like ohhh, I don’t know, maybe your amazing hometown team wins a stupendous championship that unites the whole city in joy!
Other times, the tiniest moments matter.
I was coming out of the train station the other day and the man ahead of me was a little unsure of himself, wheeling a big suitcase awkwardly through the doorway. A person coming the other way barreled right through, shoving into my fellow passenger with a sneering comment.
Meanwhile, when it was my turn to exit, the person facing me looked up, gave a huge smile, stepped aside, and said, come on through! What a gracious human thing to do. Just five seconds of kindness, and yet days later it still makes me smile to think of this friendly courtesy.
Small and yet big.
Of course, giant productions like a duck boat parade with confetti and dancing in the streets can also be pretty neat.
Dear ones, let’s savor all the joys,
Micro to mega.
Sunday Best – June 16, 2024
Earlier today, as the radio news rumbled and the tea kettle bubbled and the trucks whooshed past on the road, I felt a presence just beyond my vision.
As I peered out the window, a beautiful deer stepped round the corner of the house, stopping right in front of me. She stretched out her neck to nibble some flowers, and then, seeing me, I was sure she’d bolt away.
Instead, she straightened up and paused for a good long while.
All was suddenly silent and still.
I tilted my head. She tilted hers.
I looked in her eyes. She looked right back.
Dear friends, may we see.
May we be seen.
***
There is no greater gift than to be seen by our own loved ones. Father’s Day is complicated for many, and yet we have all been fathered in some way – by family and friends and teachers and coaches and books and music and rivers and mountains. I am one of the very lucky ones who has a dad who taught her how to change a flat tire and how to offer a proper handshake and how to navigate life with resilience and honor. If you have ever cared for anyone or anywhere or anything with this kind of devotion, thank you. Your love improves our world.
Sunday Best – June 9, 2024
One day you go for a hike and you hear a crunching sound, only to realize it’s your own creaky knees. Your heart is pounding and your face is all red and shiny and you are passed on the trail by a very young person and then a very old person and it would be easy to feel a little discouraged.
But you see a waterfall and a baby bear and a mushroom as big as your head and then darkness falls and thousands of fireflies light up the night and you are just so filled up with the world that your own huffing and puffing seems very small indeed.
Dear ones, I wish for us this joyful smallness,
standing tiny and quiet
before the wonders of our world.
Sunday Best – June 2, 2024
A weird little dream of mine came true this week when I got to visit the Deer Island water treatment plant, the site of the big egg-shaped sludge digesters that you see when you fly into Logan Airport in Boston.
There is a particular sort of heroism in giant public works projects. They cost astounding amounts of money. They are held up by endless politics. They are dangerous and difficult to build. They take forever to complete. They are the subject of jokes and complaints and curses. The real-time rewards are zero for all involved.
And yet, when done well, over time, the benefits are infinite.
What is it worth to turn on the tap with confidence? What is it worth to see fish and shorelines and humans thriving? What is it worth to sing “Dirty Water” at Fenway with nostalgic joy?
Dear ones, every day we have chances big and small to benefit our own futures – for ourselves, for our families, for our communities, for the whole world. It’s usually inconvenient, and very hard work. No glory. No glamour.
Let’s try.
With thanks to the MWRA and the Boston Long Now group for this wonderful field trip!
Sunday Best – May 26, 2024
When a measure becomes a target,
it ceases to be a good measure.
– Goodhart’s Law (paraphrased by Marilyn Strathern)
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the difference between measures and metrics.
A measure is a clue; a metric is a fact. A measure is an arrow; a metric is a point. A measure is a puzzle piece; a metric is all straight edges. A measure is in motion; a metric is a freeze frame. Both can be helpful, but they serve different purposes.
Friends, here we are, on the verge of a new season. The garden is mulched. The eagle is circling overhead. The marshmallows are procured.
What will be the measures of a splendid summer? Legs sore from hiking. Blueberries filling jam jars. Corn husks topping off the compost pile. Books piled by the reading nook. Sunsets blurring into starlight.
We could chart each mile and berry and page.
We could keep a checklist of done’s and more’s.
Or we could savor each birdsong, each bonfire, each bloom.
No counting – or accounting – required.