this is the week that the dogwood trees bloomed- holding their trays of flowers like offerings- shy and lithe and stretching their new spring bodies- delicate, lacy and white, filling in the gaps between the naked dark branches.
everything feels so alive.
today was windy and the air was pushing at us as we walked down streets to the places we needed to go. it's strange to feel the strong tug of something you can't see- to wrestle against the invisible. days can feel like that too. i woke up fighting something imperceptible. an annoyance at the mundane parts of life- the crampiness of it- the claustrophobic, suffocating feeling of those wasted in-between times. the waiting times. i was longing for a tremendous space, a view.
this afternoon- when the drop offs and pick ups were done- i let the kids watch a movie and i spent 2 hours finishing the book 'let the great world spin' by colum mccann, so i could go to book club that night. and i found that space- that view- the room to breathe- it was luscious. the characters and their stories share the sense of the beauty in ruin- the grace in tragedy, that life is hard and ugly but in it, there is goodness. there is wisdom hidden in each character- little gems- truths- from the monk and the prostitute- the lawyer and the foster mom. the tightrope walker, the computer hacker, the liberation theologist are each living out their own performance- engaging in the world in response to what moves them. all boiled down, again, we're not that different. and in that - there is hope. there is understanding.
it's one of the reasons why i love being a doctor, why i love going to work on fridays. hearing the lives of people, their stories. people who see more clearly because they're nearing the end. the great depths of loss speak. people are more willing to get on their tightropes- there is often a brave vulnerability - a risk taking- a readiness- a realness. our memories live with us in parallel - we can move into them- good or bad- they are right there. and we understand it backwards.
"We stumble on..bring a little noise into the silence, find in others the ongoings of ourselves. it's almost enough........The world spins. We stumble on. It is enough." pg 349.
and it is.
everything feels so alive.
today was windy and the air was pushing at us as we walked down streets to the places we needed to go. it's strange to feel the strong tug of something you can't see- to wrestle against the invisible. days can feel like that too. i woke up fighting something imperceptible. an annoyance at the mundane parts of life- the crampiness of it- the claustrophobic, suffocating feeling of those wasted in-between times. the waiting times. i was longing for a tremendous space, a view.
this afternoon- when the drop offs and pick ups were done- i let the kids watch a movie and i spent 2 hours finishing the book 'let the great world spin' by colum mccann, so i could go to book club that night. and i found that space- that view- the room to breathe- it was luscious. the characters and their stories share the sense of the beauty in ruin- the grace in tragedy, that life is hard and ugly but in it, there is goodness. there is wisdom hidden in each character- little gems- truths- from the monk and the prostitute- the lawyer and the foster mom. the tightrope walker, the computer hacker, the liberation theologist are each living out their own performance- engaging in the world in response to what moves them. all boiled down, again, we're not that different. and in that - there is hope. there is understanding.
it's one of the reasons why i love being a doctor, why i love going to work on fridays. hearing the lives of people, their stories. people who see more clearly because they're nearing the end. the great depths of loss speak. people are more willing to get on their tightropes- there is often a brave vulnerability - a risk taking- a readiness- a realness. our memories live with us in parallel - we can move into them- good or bad- they are right there. and we understand it backwards.
"We stumble on..bring a little noise into the silence, find in others the ongoings of ourselves. it's almost enough........The world spins. We stumble on. It is enough." pg 349.
and it is.
1 comment:
That book sounds amazing. I am longing for that view myself. I might need to go pick that one up and read it for myself :)
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