Sunday Best – July 9, 2023
How lucky we were in Boston that the skies miraculously cleared just before the big July 4 concert! As the cannons of the 1812 Overture, faded, we all turned skyward to greet the fireworks… only to realize that the fog had rolled in fast and low, leaving just a little sliver of sparkly viewing. A lovely evening, yet a little dimmed.
On the other hand, the very night before, I was greeted by not one but two little fawns! A totally unexpected delight.
Dear ones, we never know what’s around the bend. Life’s most anticipated moments might fall a little flat, while any old Tuesday might turn out to be extraordinary.
In this world of unknowing, may our storms be short lived.
May our celebrations be many.
May our surprises be joyful.
May those joys be doubled.
Sunday Best – July 2, 2023
You know that feeling when you speak a fragment of a poem, the same one you’ve mentioned a thousand times before, but this time instead of you being the only one who knows it’s a poem and not a throwaway phrase you are with the friends who know the poem and see why you are referencing it even though it is not the most obvious reason and they can recite the whole thing right there while you are talking which takes the conversation to a whole other place that is simultaneously higher and deeper because they get IT and they get YOU and you are just overwhelmed by how lucky you are to know such people?
May we all keep such fragments.
May we all have such moments.
May we all know such humans.
[i carry your heart with me(i carry it in]
Sunday Best – June 25, 2023
Last week, a fan beside me at Fenway – the most wonderful place on earth – brought along an old-fashioned scoring book, which contained records of every baseball game he’d attended for the last decade or so. The kids around him were mesmerized as he recounted every play from a famous old match-up by reading the rune-like symbols – no YouTube clips or ESPN highlight reels required. By the end of the night they’d mastered the secret code and were yelling out the scoring for each play so that it could be properly recorded.
It is wonderful to live in an age when we can recall a recipe or identify a birdsong or settle a trivia bet with the press of a button. But dear friends, what do we want to keep closer, safer?
Knowing the stars and trees and creatures and pathways home need not be left to apps. Our memories and images and poems and music need not depend on strong wifi.
What is so precious that we give it space within?
Sunday Best – June 18, 2023
Evoke the forms. Where you’ve nothing else construct ceremonies out of the air and breathe upon them.
– Cormac McCarthy, The Road
That the most gifted and beloved amongst us can shine beyond borders is both mystery and solace.
This week we lost Cormac McCarthy, whose talents are borderless.
When I first began reading Cormac’s works, the top note of darkness overwhelmed. In more recent years, the fierce undercurrent of love and hope has shone ever more brightly.
Dear ones, when we are at a loss for words or deeds,
may we evoke the forms.
And when the darkness falls,
may we carry the fire.
It may seem odd to some to be quoting The Road on Father’s Day, but can you name a more powerful love story of father and child? Father’s Day is complicated and painful 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 11, 2023
ALMOST EVERYTHING WILL WORK AGAIN
IF YOU UNPLUG IT FOR A FEW MINUTES —
INCLUDING YOU.
– ANNE LAMOTT
Dear ones,
May we all have a pocket of peace today,
to catch a breath
to ponder a poem
to pick a peony.