Amo Ergo Sum — that’s the hope.
Whatever, however, you make someone’s jaw drop in wonderment or joy (and observing that) is pretty darn magical.
I suspect, as an extrovert, that it’s not that I’ve failed to give voice to a conviction, but that I have given it voice, but inartfully, inarticulately, or otherwise in a sub-optimal way. If there is a conviction I haven’t given voice to, I’m very deaf to my own feelings and words.
By paying attention, by fulfilling all of my responsibilities, by doing something nice, by listening, and by praying, I can ease the distress of others.
Challenge, of which I am facing one presently, appears always to be accompanied with vulnerability. This makes sense, after all how could one open up their heart, or share their thoughts especially to articulate ideas to create a more expansive, embracing world?
How vulnerable (and how ok am I to adverse consequences) am I willing to be, seems to be the hinge upon which the door to my heart and mind will stay shut, crack open, or swing wide open.
I do not yet know how vulnerab...
I do not yet know how vulnerable I’m willing to be in this current challenge for even if I’m able to open my heart and my mind and help make a more expansive way of embracing the world (for others) I’m not sure I’m willing to suffer for it, so long as that suffering might negatively affect those I love.
A vexing conscience is mine.
Sr. Fintan, CSN; Sr. Sue Sanders, RSM & Sr. Joy Clough, RSM; my wife; my parents, of course, when I was younger; I suppose the folks whom may have prayed for me over the years.
Good books, a bath, a nap, and a pint of the good stuff from time to time while commiserating with a friend can also be very sustaining in vexing, hopeless, or otherwise confused moments of life.
This is a good question, an unexpected one. This is a question for which I do not have an immediate response and thus don’t wish to quickly peruse my old stories without adequate rumination and examination.
Thank you for the question, hopefully I can answer this, for myself, after I take the day to reflect upon it.
I am unsure of the distinction between role and responsibility and perhaps that’s irrelevant. Treat people with dignity and exhibit/execute that treatment with consistency. Be calm and slow to anger.
I can appreciate the ease and freedom I have to move about; commute to work, walk around at lunch, get from point a-to-b. And I can appreciate it even if there’s a delay on the train too.
For me, I suspect a direct (inverse) correlation between my mental stance of scarcity and my disposition for generosity; as my feelings of scarcity decrease my generosity increases.
I could be more generous with time of course, but overall, I think to be more generous I have to remember that there’s not a short supply of care, compassion, smiles, concern, hugs, et cetera.
The life of Joseph Hesse, calls out for remembrance. I found out yesterday that he died last month.
For those who pray – say an Ave for Monsieur Context.
For those who know any foreign language (native English speakers) brush it off and use it today.
I’m pretty sure he was the only high school teacher I invited to my wedding — and he attended.
He was able to be supremely intelligent, and humble; empathetic but not naive; always interested but nev...
He was able to be supremely intelligent, and humble; empathetic but not naive; always interested but never prying.
His knowledge of world, French, and Church history was mesmerizing. I know for a fact, I have had more supremely-amazing-teachers than the average person, but when I grew up, it was Joe Hesse I wanted to be like. He was always happy, always until the Stoughton Area School District screwed him over at the end of his career. And then only for a brief moment of dismay and hurt (they cut the French program he inaugurated) was his ever-ready-smile not ever-ready. I wanted to be like him in part for the intelligence but in larger part because of his natural happy disposition.
All the good parts of my nature and character were enhanced and matured by his example and mentorship; and all the awful and defective parts of my nature were starved and isolated when I retained the lessons he taught.
I still feel like I failed him. I spoke to the school board at a public hearing my senior year, pleading (berating) the board to not cut French in its budget crisis — but it didn’t work.
May this polyglot rest in peace. And for a life well lived, merci beaucoup.
Donne-leur, Seigneur, le repos éternel
Et que brille sur eux la lumière de ta face.
Qu’ils reposent en paix. Amen.
Gosh, I don’t know the last time I really played. I play with my kids every day, and if that counts I suppose ‘play’ awakens a different mode of reacting, a different way of relating to another.
I grew up with dogs. Collies. We got a cat. My daughter named her Rapunzel-Rainbowdash-Cutiepie. The cat sometimes acts like a dog, and comes up to me late every evening for a scritch and scratch behind her ear. I am grateful for Rapunzel the cat.
Perhaps I conflate envy with perceived injustice and success. Perhaps envy is teaching me about my false idol of success. At times I feel most envious it is usually about something or something I have a knowledge about or relationship with and think, “gosh, if I had rich parents like _____ who bailed me out of those situations,” for instance I’m envious of a person who has succeeded at something I struggle at or fail at.
It’s been awhile since my heart sang, but I’ve caught it warming up a few times, including a conversation with a friend after a party where “all seemed right” with the world. I think my heart sings as the ‘response’ in a standard ‘call and response’ format. When I feel valued, when I see peace, then my heart sings.
I will look at my lack of patience and my alacrity to anger more deeply today. Hopefully I’ll find ways to increase patience, root causes of anger, and mental-molasses to coat my more irascible passions so as to move much more slowly towards anger.
The co-mingling of memories, present attentiveness, and future hope all at once; in a literalistic sense, I come alive every day thanks to the grace of God; conversations where I and my interlocutors are positive contributors and our conversation takes us to a new place or brings forth knew knowledge; when something good is realized or achieved; when I feel love/d.
A few days ago, when I transubstantiated from “Dad” to “Tickle Monster” for my five year old and two year old.
One thing I can do to make the planet better is to commit to compassion today. The one commitment will manifest itself in a few ways; going to a friend’s mother’s wake, being less reactionary and more listening at work; being more attentive to what my wife says this evening, and greeting surprises not with disdain and distance but with a calm and welcome.
Recommit. Pray for wisdom, integrity, and for assistance.
I am inspired by others’ example; I am inspired by hope especially when it seems attainable or was unexpected; I’m inspired when I feel capable of being a contributing worker in the vineyard; my inspiration to serve might be innate, but it’s not animated until something outside of me (a person, an event, the environment around me) connects with my abilities and desire to serve.
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