Love

Let grief be your sister.

Posted on by Shari Swanson

So much of living is grief, I’ve found. Grief at the loss of people, places, times we’ve loved. Grief over relationships that are now stilted and strained which once felt unbridled and free. Grief over the not knowing, and sometimes the knowing. Grief over lost faith you once had in people who now are difficult to recognize. Grief everywhere, and it can lead to separation. Pulling away in anticipatory fear of yet more grief. And, that will lead to loneliness.

Perhaps our loneliness epidemic would be eased if we all were to slow down and notice each other, pause to realize we are here for each other,  and be vulnerable enough to allow ourselves to see and be seen.

Perhaps the antidote to grief is attention, not because you will avoid the ultimate loss, but because you will capture the moments now. Cherishing our children while we are here. Nurturing our friendships while we are here. Noticing

Mary Oliver’s poems open us in so many ways– to nature, to each other, to our own hidden places. Perhaps this one on loneliness will speak to you today:

Loneliness

When loneliness comes stalking, go into the fields, consider
the orderliness of the world. Notice
something you have never noticed before,

like the tambourine sound of the snow-cricket
whose pale green body is no longer than your thumb.

Stare hard at the hummingbird, in the summer rain,
shaking the water-sparks from its wings.

Let grief be your sister, she will whether or not.
Rise up from the stump of sorrow, and be green also,
like the diligent leaves.

A lifetime isn’t long enough for the beauty of this world
and the responsibilities of your life.

Scatter your flowers over the graves, and walk away.
Be good-natured and untidy in your exuberance.

In the glare of your mind, be modest.
And beholden to what is tactile, and thrilling.

Live with the beetle, and the wind.

~ Mary Oliver ~

Part of the jewel.

Posted on by Shari Swanson

Mr. Rogers inspired generations to recognize the beauty of their neighborhoods, to search for the helpers for inspiration in any crisis, and to recognize that each individual has value and inherent worth. His words continue to echo through both good and bad times. He reminded us that it wasn’t our exteriors he liked or admired, but our interior selves, our character and trustworthiness.

Today consider his reminder to remember all those people who believed in you and made you who you are– someone capable of making the good choices to make this world a better place.

I’d like to give you all an invisible gift. A gift of a silent minute to think about those who have helped you become who you are today. Some of them may be here right now. Some may be far away. Some, like my astronomy professor, may even be in Heaven. But wherever they are, if they’ve loved you, and encouraged you, and wanted what was best in life for you, they’re right inside your self. And I feel that you deserve quiet time, on this special occasion, to devote some thought to them. So, let’s just take a minute, in honor of those that have cared about us all along the way. One silent minute.

I carry your heart with me.

Posted on by Shari Swanson

I recently bought a snow globe of a Labrador and a cardinal in the woods.

These two remind me of the unconditional love I was lucky enough to receive from my late dog, Honey

And my late, and very much beloved grandmother.

Honey was my soul animal, always with me, zooming with me into school visits during the pandemic, meeting and loving every neighbor we encountered on our long walks, my constant companion.

My grandmother loved me unconditionally, always eager to hear my stories, encouraging me in my writing, sharing life as two brunette mothers of redheads, growing together in our faith journeys.

I love having them there with me symbolically on my desk in this little snow globe because, frankly, grief is hard. Losing those precious to us leaves a gaping wound. But when we remember them, we remember the love they gave us, too, and that part feels good. When we carry them with us like that, they are still here.

I think of e.e. cummings‘ poem:

[i carry your heart with me(i carry it in]

BY E. E. CUMMINGS

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in

my heart)i am never without it(anywhere

i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done

by only me is your doing,my darling)

                                                      i fear

no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want

no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)

and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant

and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows

(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud

and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows

higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)

and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

And as we go on, past the loss, we carry those who have loved us with us in our hearts, giving us comfort and strength. We carry them with us, and, with that, we carry the unconditional love they gave that still sustains us, even now.

Take your time.

Posted on by Shari Swanson

Have you ever been at your wits’ end, and then someone’s kind words literally change your whole day and outlook? We can forget how simple words can make profound differences.

Consider this story from NPR:

STEPHANIE COLE: There I was in my black skirt and my white blouse and ready to go the first day. And I had been trained but very, very quickly. And as is true in a department store during Christmas, it was just bustling. You know how it is at Christmas, when everybody’s out shopping and everybody’s in a hurry and all these people around. This woman comes up to me with, I think, a Christmas tree ornament she wanted to buy, and I freeze. I just freeze. All of a sudden, I can’t remember anything. I can’t remember how to run the cash register. I can’t remember anything about the transactions. I am just absolutely frozen – and probably very close to tears. Just – I so wanted this to go right, and it was going so wrong.

She looked at me and paused and, with such a kind expression on her face, said, it’s all right. Take your time. I’m not in a hurry. And that was the release. All of a sudden, I could breathe, I could wait till somebody else could help me. It was going to be OK. It made such an impression that all these years later, not only do I still remember it, but I find myself – those words coming out of my mouth on numerous, many, many occasions over the years. You know, you encounter somebody whose first day on the job or they’re just having a bad day and things are really – you can tell they’re in a bad place. And you can say, it’s OK. I’m not in a hurry. Take your time. And it always makes the situation better. Always, always.

And so this woman, I can’t really remember her face – and certainly, she’s probably dead by now, given how old I was and how old she was – but she gave me that gift without knowing she gave me that gift, and it’s lasted all these years.

https://www.npr.org/2025/12/15/nx-s1-5640144/a-customers-patience-60-years-ago-was-a-gift-that-changed-a-womans-life

Maybe today you’ll have the chance to be the person remembered 60 years from now for the kind words you say and patience you show to a stranger today!

Dancing dust.

Posted on by Shari Swanson

Hello Mortal,

I regret to inform you that your time here in this place and time is limited.

So, now is your time, however much you might prefer a different one. You matter. The gifts you bring matter. The relationships you tend need you.

This is it.

Consider young Calvin:

Or, better yet, consider this poem:

We are in a joint and fragile keeping, ephemeral, and impermanent. But, now, now, it is ours for the tending, the keeping, the loving. Grasp it.

So many things.

Posted on by Shari Swanson

There are so many ways to find solace in troubling times. Lately, I’ve been paying attention to delight. What a lovely emotion is delight, and instances can be found everywhere.

For me, just this past few days, I’ve found delight in a friend’s video of their new grandson laughing, the unabashed belly laugh of the new to this world that can’t help but make me smile. In a friend’s periwinkle sweater, my favorite color, a favorite shared with my late grandmother who I adored and the color of jacaranda blossoms that takes me back to days sitting on the lawn of my children’s elementary school under the falling blooms as a best friend and I waited, chatting, for our kids to come running out at the end of their school day. In the fragrance of a new foaming bath soap, this one Winter Citrus Wreath, selected by my husband, who picks a half dozen or so out to surprise me, knowing how much I love scents. And so on.

Delight is everywhere when we look for it, and lingering for a moment in that feeling lifts us up and gives us hope.

Consider Mary Shelley’s complete list of the simple things she found to love:

Love! What had I to love? Oh many things: there was the moonshine, and the bright stars; the breezes and the refreshing rains; there was the whole earth and the sky that covers it: all lovely forms that visited my imagination, all memories of heroism and virtue. Yet this was very unlike my early life although as then I was confined to Nature and books. Then I bounded across the fields; my spirit often seemed to ride upon the winds, and to mingle in joyful sympathy with the ambient air. Then if I wandered slowly I cheered myself with a sweet song or sweeter day dreams. I felt a holy rapture spring from all I saw. I drank in joy with life; my steps were light; my eyes clear from the love that animated them, sought the heavens, and with my long hair loosened to the winds I gave my body and my mind to sympathy and delight.”

Oh, to give our body and mind to sympathy and delight. Definitely good for whatever might ail you.

Love in this place.

Posted on by Shari Swanson

It’s okay to be heartbroken for more than one group of people at the same time. When it comes to showing compassion, we don’t have to pick sides. Sometimes, often really, maybe even always, there is hurt and anguish everywhere, and we can mourn the lot of it. 

Beware people who tell you not to be concerned for this group or that group and the hurt they feel. 

Beware those who try to dehumanize others. 

Beware those who lump you in as the ‘enemy’ for working to assure people are treated humanely.

Beware people who draw lines between us and them. 

Beware those who try to limit you to a label or single identity. 

Our hearts are big enough to embrace it all. What we must save is love.

Hang on to you hat. Hang on to your hope.

Posted on by Shari Swanson

Enjoy these profound words from E.B. White:

30 March 1973


Dear Mr. Nadeau:

As long as there is one upright man, as long as there is one compassionate woman, the contagion may spread and the scene is not desolate. Hope is the thing that is left to us, in a bad time. I shall get up Sunday morning and wind the clock, as a contribution to order and steadfastness.

Sailors have an expression about the weather: they say, the weather is a great bluffer. I guess the same is true of our human society–things can look dark, then a break shows in the clouds, and all is changed, sometimes rather suddenly.

It is quite obvious that the human race has made a queer mess of life on this planet. But as a people we probably harbor seeds of goodness that have lain for a long time waiting to sprout when the conditions are right. Man’s curiosity, his relentlessness, his inventiveness, his ingenuity have led him into deep trouble. We can only hope that these same traits will enable him to claw his way out.

Hang on to your hat. Hang on to your hope. And wind the clock, for tomorrow is another day.

Sincerely,
E. B. White

One day at a time.

Posted on by Shari Swanson

In times of great change, it is challenging to predict the future. So much is in flux. And yet, forward we must go.

In harrowing times, focus on each day, each moment, each breath. And breathe deeply. Rely on the things you know to be true and unchanging. Make the best decisions you can with what you have to work with.

Sean Penn had an interesting way to describe navigating these times, paying attention to the difficulties around you and how you can help, while also making sure to savor and appreciate the beauty of life so you don’t become lost in the morass:

[Penn points to one eye] I wake up every day with this eye clear about the threat to the environment, the anguish people are going through, attempts to figure out how I can be of any value-added. [Penn points to his other eye] And this one is driving me from the time I wake up, and all I see is that this is still a magic trick of a beautiful cosmos and I am gonna [expletive] enjoy it every day – and I do.

Remember you have made it through everything that has come your way so far.

Clear eyes. Full hearts.

You’ve got this.