For some time, most especially since the election, I have felt the danger of social media. I recognize my own obsession with it, an obsession I desire and despise in equal measure. What I have loved about it is the ability to connect with people who aren’t within my physical realm, people I don’t or can’t see every day. I like knowing what they’re up to, I like seeing pictures of their family parties, hearing about the books they read, knowing their triumphs and tragedies - all the things we “post” on our FB pages. I realize how much I need this connection. I realize that this need arises from a deep-seated loneliness I don’t always want to acknowledge. So I’m drawn to this central location, this big virtual village green, place where I can express my “status” - how I’m feeling, what I’m doing, what’s happening in my life - but also a place where I can find out the same things about all of you.
From Where I Sit
A Recipe for Wisdom
“I do not believe that sheer suffering teaches. If suffering alone taught, all the world would be wise, since everyone suffers. To suffering must be added mourning, understanding, patience, love, openness, and the willingness to remain vulnerable.” -Anne Morrow Lindbergh, A Gift from the Sea
If suffering alone did teach, we would be so very wise right now, wouldn’t we? For it feels as if this year gone by has delivered more than its fair share of suffering.
My own world was rocked with suffering when my mother died in March. By late summer, I had lost count of all the people in my circle who also lost a parent this year. (At last count it was 22, and I think the final sum must be well over 30.) I lost a younger friend to cancer, and an even younger one to suicide. Not to mention a host of celebrities who died in 2016.
The Greatest Gift
I’ve had so many friends offering comfort for me this Christmas, the first one without my mom. The first one for us without any living parents. For our tiny little family it means the entire circle consists of 7 of us: Jim and I, Brian, Nantana, Connor, and of course, Magic and Molly. But it’s quality that counts, not quantity, and I couldn’t ask for six more wonderful living beings around the table of my life.
Mending
“ Mend the parts of the world that are within your reach. Anything you do from the soulful self will help lighten the burdens of the world. You have no idea what the smallest word, the tiniest generosity, can cause to be set in motion.” --Clarissa Pinkola Estes
My dog Magic has a favorite stuffed toy named Baby that lived at my mom’s house for many years. Magic, like most dogs, loves to play tug-of-war with his toys. He like to grab them and shake them fiercely. He likes to chomp on them until he finds the hidden squeaker, and then squeak it incessantly. (He still does this, even though he’s now deaf as a stone.)
Periodically, small rips and tears appear in Baby and his stuffing starts to spill out. My mom regularly stitched them up, and Baby has as many scars as prizefighter. Doesn’t matter to Magic - he goes right back to tugging, shaking, and chomping with abandon. And we go right on mending, because Baby is so important to Magic.