Sunday Best – March 24, 2024
Leave the raft upon the riverbank.
That’s the summation of an oft-cited Buddhist parable, where the story gently reminds us that just because something is useful in one setting, we need not carry it with us forevermore.
Steeped as I am in traditions of honor and loyalty and yes, a little bit of stubbornness, this idea has always been uncomfortable to me. What if I need the raft again? What if there is never another raft to be found? What if the original raft resents me for continuing on to dry land? What if I made the raft with my own two hands? What if the raft was a gift from a beloved teacher?
Friends, there are ideas and relationships and places and endeavors meant for a whole lifetime through, and beyond. And there are also gifts that are meant for a specific moment. It’s wasteful to cling to a summer tomato until the frost. It’s thoughtless to transplant a cactus to the rainforest.
Dear ones, may we appreciate the rafts that keep us afloat.
And when we reach the shore, may we part with gratitude,
and gladness,
and grace.
Photo by WJH, March 2024.
Sunday Best – March 17, 2024
A few weeks ago, I attended an amazing concert. It was thought-provoking, beautiful, and thoroughly enjoyable, and stuck in my mind for days afterward. Walking home that night, I felt dazzled. Challenged.
This weekend, I saw a different show, also amazing. It was joyful, tender, and surprisingly participatory. People who never sing were singing. People who never dance were dancing. Walking home, I felt connected. Happy.
These performances were both generous and both genius, in very different ways. The first left me feeling like I might never see another performance like it. The second left me feeling like I would carry the music within me always.
The first was saying, here is my gift to you. The second was saying, we are the gift.
Dear ones, may we appreciate the art that inspires.
May we treasure the art that elevates.
Sunday Best – March 10, 2024
Make new friends, but keep the old.
One is silver and the other gold.
– Girl Scout song (and also a poem from Joseph Parry)
Sometimes whole weeks zip by fully in the present, a blur of our current places and people. Then once in a while there is a blissful time of reunion and re-rooting, when the layers of our lives are revealed.
This past week I was able to visit with dear relatives, a mentor from my earliest work days, and friends who have known me for decades.
What a comfort to be with those who have witnessed our wandering and our discovery, our stumbling and our soaring, our sorrow and our joy. Those who can take a scrap of conversation and weave it into the fabric of our lives, understanding in a moment what others could never learn. Those who can be counted on to be in our corner, whether we’re quiet or grumpy or awkward or maybe even a little bit in the wrong.
Friends, let us honor each moment and each new connection.
And let us treasure the ties that run deep, the foundation of everything good and strong and true.
Sunday Best – March 3, 2024
This weekend I happened upon a beach full of seashells, heaped in great piles like some sort of salty sunny Aladdin’s cave. The abundance was astonishing, and unsettling. At first I stood dazed and dazzled. Then I started darting from pile to pile, sure that the next one was somehow better than the one I had already visited. Others had similar reactions, stuffing bags full of souvenirs until they were staggering under the weight. A sort of giddy greediness floated in the air.
After a little while, I slowed down enough to appreciate a few individual shells, marveling at the perfect Fibonacci spirals at their hearts and at the way that such strong, gorgeous structures emerge from nothing but calcium carbonate and protein. I picked one favorite. Then another. Then another. Finally I sat still and sighed with the wonder of it all.
Friends, we are surrounded by the abundance of our world.
May our greed give way to gratitude.
May we treasure each tiny element,
and the miracles within.
Sunday Best – February 25, 2024
Friends, it is a loud loud world. In an effort to set aside the daily news one night this past week, I watched a shocking number of Taylor Swift reels and learned that butterflies sometimes drink turtle tears.
While these were worthwhile distractions, they were just that – distractions. Thankfully there was also a chance to get really, really quiet – the quiet beyond scrolling, beyond lists, beyond even poetry or music. The bedrock quiet where we can hear our truest selves. Like visiting a beloved sacred place, or a cherished friend, even a moment in this realm brings a great sense of ease and replenishment and homecoming.
Dear ones, may we all have joyful distractions of the outer world to brighten our days.
And may we rest with faith upon our foundations within.
Think of the world you carry within you…be it remembrance of your own childhood or longing for your own future. Only be attentive to what is arising within you, and prize it above all that you perceive around you. What happens most deeply inside you is worthy of your whole love. Work with that and don’t waste too much time and courage explaining it to other people.
– Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet