How Alive The World Is (vol. 7, no. 10)
Here are a few things I’m sharing this month:
1. Question:
“And when you talk about the magic in the books, the magic is just looking and wondering. You know, who knows what’s inside that squirrel? That squirrel could write poetry. And it’s like, that’s what we let go of when we’re adults, because, I think, it hurts so much to see how alive the world is and that everything is sentient, every being. And so you just kind of close down to that. But that is so much a part of how we see the world as kids.” – Kate DiCamillo (On-Being Podcast)
2. Quote:
“What a child needs, what we all need, is to find some other people who have imagined life along lines that make sense to us and allow some freedom, and listen to them. Not hear passively, but listen. Listening is an act of community, which takes space, time, and silence.” – Ursula K Lequin
3. Poem:
“I Dream of a Quiet man” by Wendell Berry
I dream of a quiet man
who explains nothing and defends
nothing, but only knows
where the rarest wildflowers
are blooming, and who goes,
and finds that he is smiling
not by his own will.
4. Something Inspiring:
“Inspiration is not the exclusive privilege of poets or artists generally. There is, has been, and will always be a certain group of people whom inspiration visits. It’s made up of all those who’ve consciously chosen their calling and do their job with love and imagination. It may include doctors, teachers, gardeners — and I could list a hundred more professions. Their work becomes one continuous adventure as long as they manage to keep discovering new challenges in it. Difficulties and setbacks never quell their curiosity. A swarm of new questions emerges from every problem they solve. Whatever inspiration is, it’s born from a continuous ‘I don’t know.'” – Wisława Szymborska
5. Project updates:
Yesterday, we had to put our dog Buddy down. It was at home. He was lying on the porch in the sunshine. The skies were blue. Birds were singing. Chipmunks were darting. I was holding Buddy’s paws when I looked up and saw this man—my son—ascend the stairs, all solemn. Dillon had rushed home from college. Kyra was out of town visiting family. So we had her on the phone. And the phone was next to Buddy’s ear, and she was endlessly telling him how good a boy he was and how much we loved him. I was nose to nose with him. Breathing in rhythm with him. Dillon was standing like a sentinel watching. Our in-home vet talked us through the process. Told us there was no rush. That she was ready when we were ready. We said we were ready. And when I carried Buddy to her vehicle, when I placed him inside and started weeping, my son, this man, so much taller and bigger than me, took me into his arms, started rubbing my shoulder, comforting me. And we stood there together. Two men wrecked in grief. Grief I was so grateful for the chance to share with him.
Thanks so much. And have a great day! – shawn
