My 7-yr. old Grandson Logan was diagnosed with Ewing Sarcoma and he was swiftly moved into a whole regime of chemotherapy that required many hospitalizations. At the time of his diagnosis the family had just moved into a brand new home that they had built and he was so excited for his new bedroom. He had only slept in it a few times before being diagnosed; his diagnosis hung over the entire family like a black cloud and quickly ushered out any joy they felt about being able to move into their new dwelling. I visited many times in support of Logan and his family. It was on one such occasion that I was tucking him in at night that the topic of "heaven" came up. All that he had been through, his 7yr. old thoughts about cancer and dying were all summed up in one small sentence. He said to me "home is like heaven". Though there is no cure in sight for Logan, it will be two years soon since he got sick and I am so very grateful for the time he has had to spend with family and just be at home; home is his heaven. By the grace of God may he be granted more of what he cherishes so.
What a lovely line you shared in this substack... thank you.
The sentence that I have found most moving lately, that is changing the way that I see some things about my life is a line that you wrote, Pádraig.
"So let us pick up the stones over which we have stumbled, my friends, and build altars."
I have shared it with those who are struggling with failure, shame, feelings that there are things that are part of their story that they would rather turn away from and this simple line makes "visible" the possibility of transforming those bits of one's story that feel like they should remain hidden, to become something beautiful.
With gratitude for the opportunity to enter into this space of beautiful words.
In 1985, I met a man dying of AIDS. He approached my office door, stopped, sighed, and asked, "Would you at least listen to me?" This question pierced me, challenged me, and became the deepest and most intimate question of my career and life. Listening saves me and fills me, empties me and erases my harsh impulses.
Victor Frankl's - "In that space is the power to choose our response." I came across this at the ripe old age of 11. I remember being angry that no adult had clued me into this before then and my mother laughing in that knowing way before saying to me that most adults had no idea and those that did struggled to incorporate it into their daily live. So I was expecting too much.
That sentence gave and still gives me a level of confidence that I can choose not to react, to find peace, and to evaluate my emotions before expressing them. To say it changed my life is an understatement.
When I was a first year teacher in the South Bronx my 8th grade students had never been anywhere in their own city. We had no textbooks for any subjects (it was a self-contained classroom) so I took them on the subway to places in the city. I could never do this now. I broke so many regulations about field trips. I took them one afternoon to St John the Divine, a cathedral I used to visit often in college to sit. It has a poet's corner. My students were overcome by the experience. One boy turned to me and said, Miss __________, (I have an aversion to my maiden name and cannot even write it. Another story.) he said, pointing to the rose window, "If I could have that blue in my life for one minute it could change my life." That sentence didn't change my life, or even my teaching life, but that boy and I became closer for the rest of the year and I was able to teach him in ways he had not been open to before. Love Marie Howe too. I am reading with her on April 17th. A dream.
Bit of a long comment from me. But I have a darling friend. She’s 20 years older than me. Witty. Wealthy. Sharp. She is the kind of woman who would never drop the ball no matter what life threw at her.
One evening, we were having drinks together. And at the time, I was an 18 year old girl. No degree. Unemployed. With no clue about the future and I and was terrified that I’d never be able to leave my shitty town or ever be able to achieve my dreams.
But in the midst of my teenage panic. She stopped me. Red wine in one hand. My cheek in the other. She looked me dead in the eye and said “Honey. The one thing that’s standing in between where you are now and where you want to be is audacity.”
It’s been three years since she told me that. Never forgot it. Now I’m writing this comment in the taxi on my way to my dream job. She was right.
My mind was going to so many places, but then I read and reread and reread your sentence “But just because I’m biased doesn’t mean I’m wrong.” That really beckoned to me because it speaks to the tension — maybe the gulf? — between the objective and the subjective.
The human life is one filled with this tension, but my areas of interest and fascinated frustration are the ethical and the aesthetic. Your sentence, Pádraig, beautifully captures what each of us knows/feels to be true but (there is that conjunction) yet inhabits a liminal space. “ Yes, I am partial to this thing here, but it really is ______ !” How do we know? What makes it so? Are we merely mired in confirmation bias? How the hell can we not have biases? Argh!
“But just because I’m biased doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”
I going to be present with that sentence this week. Thanks Pádraig!
“Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it.” - Rumi
This multifaceted and beautiful sentence from oh so long ago, has a bit of a circular energy. Each time I discover something else within me that had been unconsciously getting in my way, I feel as if I have seen another barrier that I wasn’t aware I was tripping over.
Otherwise, how can I offer deep and authentic, compassion (love) to others if I have not yet found my own stumbling stones?
I went to the Library of Congress to see the unveiling of their Mary Oliver collection and to hear Ada Limón speak with four other wonderful poets. And flashing through my head just now, when you asked the question of sentences was the first line of her ‘Wild Geese’, “You do not have to be good.” It is so powerful and liberating to be acknowledged as fully human. We are flawed and beautiful, glorious and indecent. The fact that so much can be wrapped into negating such a small word, “good,” is incredible.
......."Your scientists were so preoccupied with whether or not they could, they didn't stop to ask if they should." Too frequently we loose sight of the impact of our actions and words.
Just because you can attack someone with vicious words,
Just because you can cheat, steal, lie
Just because you can purchase items that harm people and the planet
I too have a grandson story. It does not carry the weight of Linda's grandson Logan's experience or the lightness of his call to home as heaven but it does give a window onto a two-year-old making sense of big and scary things.
A couple of weeks ago we went to the Melbourne Flower and Garden show. Unexpectedly, amidst an astonishing backdrop of spiky plants, was a display of animated dinosaurs. My two-year-old grandson was mesmerised, then curious and cautious by turns. He circuited the display several times over, watching with great intent. He wanted to know if he could touch the dinosaurs. He tentatively reached his hand towards a moving tail. Then he looked at me and said, "Be Careful. Big Teeth."
I so love this sentence, or these two, two word sentences. I feel like they carry a knowledge that things can be amazing and scary and touchable and alarming, but he knows there is a warning sign and a way to respond. It's not the risk averse form of Be Careful, to me it tells me to be watchful in how I carry myself in the world, there are signs if you can see them – Big Teeth. Thank you little one.
My 7-yr. old Grandson Logan was diagnosed with Ewing Sarcoma and he was swiftly moved into a whole regime of chemotherapy that required many hospitalizations. At the time of his diagnosis the family had just moved into a brand new home that they had built and he was so excited for his new bedroom. He had only slept in it a few times before being diagnosed; his diagnosis hung over the entire family like a black cloud and quickly ushered out any joy they felt about being able to move into their new dwelling. I visited many times in support of Logan and his family. It was on one such occasion that I was tucking him in at night that the topic of "heaven" came up. All that he had been through, his 7yr. old thoughts about cancer and dying were all summed up in one small sentence. He said to me "home is like heaven". Though there is no cure in sight for Logan, it will be two years soon since he got sick and I am so very grateful for the time he has had to spend with family and just be at home; home is his heaven. By the grace of God may he be granted more of what he cherishes so.
“Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” -Mary Oliver
What a lovely line you shared in this substack... thank you.
The sentence that I have found most moving lately, that is changing the way that I see some things about my life is a line that you wrote, Pádraig.
"So let us pick up the stones over which we have stumbled, my friends, and build altars."
I have shared it with those who are struggling with failure, shame, feelings that there are things that are part of their story that they would rather turn away from and this simple line makes "visible" the possibility of transforming those bits of one's story that feel like they should remain hidden, to become something beautiful.
With gratitude for the opportunity to enter into this space of beautiful words.
Sarah
In 1985, I met a man dying of AIDS. He approached my office door, stopped, sighed, and asked, "Would you at least listen to me?" This question pierced me, challenged me, and became the deepest and most intimate question of my career and life. Listening saves me and fills me, empties me and erases my harsh impulses.
Victor Frankl's - "In that space is the power to choose our response." I came across this at the ripe old age of 11. I remember being angry that no adult had clued me into this before then and my mother laughing in that knowing way before saying to me that most adults had no idea and those that did struggled to incorporate it into their daily live. So I was expecting too much.
That sentence gave and still gives me a level of confidence that I can choose not to react, to find peace, and to evaluate my emotions before expressing them. To say it changed my life is an understatement.
“When the power of love overcomes the love of power, the world will know peace.” - Jimi Hendrix
“See with eyes of curiosity rather than judgement.” - I don’t remember who said that one.
When I was a first year teacher in the South Bronx my 8th grade students had never been anywhere in their own city. We had no textbooks for any subjects (it was a self-contained classroom) so I took them on the subway to places in the city. I could never do this now. I broke so many regulations about field trips. I took them one afternoon to St John the Divine, a cathedral I used to visit often in college to sit. It has a poet's corner. My students were overcome by the experience. One boy turned to me and said, Miss __________, (I have an aversion to my maiden name and cannot even write it. Another story.) he said, pointing to the rose window, "If I could have that blue in my life for one minute it could change my life." That sentence didn't change my life, or even my teaching life, but that boy and I became closer for the rest of the year and I was able to teach him in ways he had not been open to before. Love Marie Howe too. I am reading with her on April 17th. A dream.
My short, recurring sentence. “Well, this will either work or it won’t.” Helpful in a life of creative endeavors.
Bit of a long comment from me. But I have a darling friend. She’s 20 years older than me. Witty. Wealthy. Sharp. She is the kind of woman who would never drop the ball no matter what life threw at her.
One evening, we were having drinks together. And at the time, I was an 18 year old girl. No degree. Unemployed. With no clue about the future and I and was terrified that I’d never be able to leave my shitty town or ever be able to achieve my dreams.
But in the midst of my teenage panic. She stopped me. Red wine in one hand. My cheek in the other. She looked me dead in the eye and said “Honey. The one thing that’s standing in between where you are now and where you want to be is audacity.”
It’s been three years since she told me that. Never forgot it. Now I’m writing this comment in the taxi on my way to my dream job. She was right.
“Today I have everything I need.”
My mind was going to so many places, but then I read and reread and reread your sentence “But just because I’m biased doesn’t mean I’m wrong.” That really beckoned to me because it speaks to the tension — maybe the gulf? — between the objective and the subjective.
The human life is one filled with this tension, but my areas of interest and fascinated frustration are the ethical and the aesthetic. Your sentence, Pádraig, beautifully captures what each of us knows/feels to be true but (there is that conjunction) yet inhabits a liminal space. “ Yes, I am partial to this thing here, but it really is ______ !” How do we know? What makes it so? Are we merely mired in confirmation bias? How the hell can we not have biases? Argh!
“But just because I’m biased doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”
I going to be present with that sentence this week. Thanks Pádraig!
“Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it.” - Rumi
This multifaceted and beautiful sentence from oh so long ago, has a bit of a circular energy. Each time I discover something else within me that had been unconsciously getting in my way, I feel as if I have seen another barrier that I wasn’t aware I was tripping over.
Otherwise, how can I offer deep and authentic, compassion (love) to others if I have not yet found my own stumbling stones?
“I shall go to the edge of what I know and sit awhile “ -Rabbi Karyn D. Kedar
I went to the Library of Congress to see the unveiling of their Mary Oliver collection and to hear Ada Limón speak with four other wonderful poets. And flashing through my head just now, when you asked the question of sentences was the first line of her ‘Wild Geese’, “You do not have to be good.” It is so powerful and liberating to be acknowledged as fully human. We are flawed and beautiful, glorious and indecent. The fact that so much can be wrapped into negating such a small word, “good,” is incredible.
From the movie Jurassic Park, Jeff Goldblum
......."Your scientists were so preoccupied with whether or not they could, they didn't stop to ask if they should." Too frequently we loose sight of the impact of our actions and words.
Just because you can attack someone with vicious words,
Just because you can cheat, steal, lie
Just because you can purchase items that harm people and the planet
Just because you can .......
Please take a stand
To mindfulness
And love of others
Just because you can
I too have a grandson story. It does not carry the weight of Linda's grandson Logan's experience or the lightness of his call to home as heaven but it does give a window onto a two-year-old making sense of big and scary things.
A couple of weeks ago we went to the Melbourne Flower and Garden show. Unexpectedly, amidst an astonishing backdrop of spiky plants, was a display of animated dinosaurs. My two-year-old grandson was mesmerised, then curious and cautious by turns. He circuited the display several times over, watching with great intent. He wanted to know if he could touch the dinosaurs. He tentatively reached his hand towards a moving tail. Then he looked at me and said, "Be Careful. Big Teeth."
I so love this sentence, or these two, two word sentences. I feel like they carry a knowledge that things can be amazing and scary and touchable and alarming, but he knows there is a warning sign and a way to respond. It's not the risk averse form of Be Careful, to me it tells me to be watchful in how I carry myself in the world, there are signs if you can see them – Big Teeth. Thank you little one.