community

Lights will guide you home.

Posted on by Shari Swanson

Are you broken? Lost?

Lights will guide you home.

Consider the story of The Tenth Goose told by Richard R. Powell in his book Wabi Sabi for Writers:

Nine Canada geese lift off a clear mountain lake; droplets from their wings cast lines of rings behind them on the glassy surface as they rise. Light gray feathers reflect amber light from the early morning sun, a clean glow off each curved body. You watch their broad wings grip air, watch nine bodies rise and fall in rhythm against the dark forest behind them. Each bird’s neck kinks in counter-time to its wing beats so that all nine heads remain level and each set of eyes gazes steadily out at the cool dawn, bright mystery of sight amid the shiny black head feathers. Closer now, you make out the expressionless curve of their beaks, see one goose’s thin moist tongue as she honks; hear the whistle of air across wing feathers as they pass over your head. Then you notice that there is a tenth goose far back, low to the water, working hard to catch up, honking softly, as if each wing beat hurts. This goose loses a feather as she passes close over you and you watch the feather spiral and glide to the ground. You pick it up and it looks perfect, each barbule lying neatly against its neighbor, the tiny whorl of fluff near the calamus soft to the touch. Then you see that the shaft is not perfect; it is cracked open from the middle to the tip.

You keep that feather, tuck it under the strap around your car’s sun visor, look at it every day you drive to work and remember the tenth goose. Remember your own efforts to keep up. And somehow, that tenth goose gives you courage. You wonder if she will find enough food or if winter will separate her from the rest, separate her from life. She speaks to you in a dream one night. In the distracted moments of the day she speaks to you, in the elevator or while you wait in traffic. Then one night she is there in your dream again, as silent as her feather in your car. She tips her head at you and that beak, with its lumpy prominence like a Roman nose, bobs up and down and you realize she is giving you permission to speak. In the dream you speak and she turns her head to hear you and you tell her your fear of dying and your hopes while living and she comes and rattles her beak between your fingers.

There is beauty and strength in the broken places, a beauty that continues on even when everything is a struggle, that faces setbacks with determination. Sometimes we are one of the nine geese, sure and strong, in sync, but sometimes we are the tenth goose struggling to keep up. And there is beauty in that, too:

It is a kind of beauty on the edge of defeat, a beauty tenacious and brave, and it is the beauty left behind when the warm, honking goose is gone. And not just flown away–but dead and gone. That feather remains as a testament to the beauty in living; and even when the feather dries and cracks and is eventually eaten by insects or the drab extension of time, it will live on in the imaginations of those who hear the story of the tenth goose.

Remember the Story of the Tenth Goose and take heart.

And, for a treat, here is Coldplay.

Bringing the sun.

Posted on by Shari Swanson

How broad is your focus? On your own needs and wants, or broader? It seems that a broad focus, on others as much or more than ourselves increases empathy and happiness.

As Daniel Goleman said:

Self-absorption in all its forms kills empathy, let alone compassion. When we focus on ourselves, our world contracts as our problems and preoccupations loom large. But when we focus on others, our world expands. Our own problems drift to the periphery of the mind and so seem smaller, and we increase our capacity for connection – or compassionate action.


― Daniel Goleman, Social Intelligence: The New Science of Human Relationships

Does this seem true as you think about the people in your life?

The other thing that happens when you turn your concern to others is the whole world opens up. There is so much to learn, to do, to care about. So many places to put your time and efforts. So many people to love and help.

Connections in a big old world.

Posted on by Shari Swanson

Every morning, I wake up and play games. My favorite these days is Connections, a collection of 16 words that you need to group in four groups of four based on a shared connection. Here’s the solution from one last week:

Now, looking at the solution, it’s easy to see the connections. Not so, though, when the words are all scrambled and the connections are unclear. Words may have more than one meaning or be multiple parts of speech. Often the answers are homonyms or are missing a letter. It can be challenging to find the connections among the words.

So, too, with the connections among people. There are some obvious superficial connections perhaps— gender, political affiliation, nationality, religion, age. But what of those deeper, hidden ones? How do we find those to help us feel more like a community?

I thought about this when reading an article about how an introvert, Jay Krasnow, made friends. He had struggled to find true connections at work functions or forced social gatherings, but when he dug deeper, to consider the things he was passionate about and find others who shared those passions, he found the connection he was looking for. He explains:

My failure at connecting wasn’t due to a lack of trying. I spent my 20′s and 30′s collecting and studying books on how to network, forge friendships and build character. 

Yet, my principal achievement from reading these books was that I became adept at identifying when other people had read these same books. Meanwhile, my networking skills didn’t significantly improve. Even worse, I felt that by reading books with titles like “How to Talk to Anyone,” I was turning myself into a robot that spewed out inauthentic lines to people who I genuinely wanted to know. 

There had to be a better way to build relationships.

For Jay, he decided to start a book club, not one reading the same book, but one where you came and told people about the book you were currently reading. It took off, people came. And those relationships centered on a shared passion spilled over into other friendships:

Connecting with other people through books seemed natural, but I didn’t know if anyone would come. I was prepared to read my book quietly if no one else showed up. Fortunately, both my friends came, and we were joined by one other person we didn’t know.

After the first event, more people started coming, and I started making new friends almost immediately. 

The group’s membership grew exponentially. It wasn’t long before I was inviting my new friends to dinners and other events. Because we had established we shared a similar passion, it was easy to branch out from there and find other things to do and talk about.

I wonder if this is what the world needs right now— connections based on a shared love or passion. So much of identity seems tied into a shared hatred or shared anger over something. It seems like that just leads to more loneliness and separation.

Time to try a new approach.

For as long as we can

Posted on by Shari Swanson

One of my personal heroes, Jimmy Carter, almost 100 years old, is trying to hang on to vote in this election. He has been such a wonderful example of walking the walk. He says:

“My faith demands – this is not optional – my faith demands that I do whatever I can, wherever I can, whenever I can, for as long as I can with whatever I have to try to make a difference.”

What a wonderful way to look at our possible impact. Using what we have, not waiting until we have more or better resources or to be older and wiser, or wishing we were younger and stronger. Right now with what’s available.

And wherever we find ourselves, adopting a bloom where you’re planted attitude. Even if we are in our own harsh spot. Considering what can we do here.

And always looking for opportunities to do good. Not necessarily solving the world’s problems, but doing your own little bit of good. Right here, right now.

Let’s go.

Thank you, President Carter, for this reminder.

Communing with ghosts.

Posted on by Shari Swanson

There is a sort of magic in reading a book. Someone, maybe long dead, has perhaps expressed deep feelings or new thoughts or complex theories, writing out of their aloneness, and connecting with someone they have never met and may never meet.

And yet the impact of that shared space over a book can be life-changing. It can help you feel less alone in this big world. It can help you feel empathy for others in a way you may never have experienced without the book. It can open your heart and mind in new and wonderful ways.

Courage over comfort.

Posted on by Shari Swanson

Life is full of hard choices. Particularly when you aren’t the one in danger. Making those tough choices, entering the fray, speaking truth to power, defending the defenseless are vital actions for our collective survival.

As Brené Brown says,

Integrity is choosing courage over comfort; it’s choosing what’s right over what’s fun, fast, or easy; and it’s practicing your values, not just professing them. 

Practicing our values, not just professing them. What are your values? How can you bring that to bear in the choices confronting you today?

Only the lonely.

Posted on by Shari Swanson

In the midst of technological connectedness, loneliness is ever present. That need for close human connection isn’t satisfied by clicks and emojis or political jousting. It requires a deeper sharing of oneself. And how frustrating to have stories to tell but no one to share them with.

Imagine what good you can do simply by being that person who can listen to another’s stories. To ease their loneliness.

Emily Dickinson captured this well:

If I can stop one heart from breaking,

I shall not live in vain;

If I can ease one life the aching,

Or cool one pain,

Or help one lonely person

Into happiness again

I shall not live in vain.

Who do you know that might have stories to tell if only there was someone to listen?

Astonishing a mean world.

Posted on by Shari Swanson

Astonishing a mean world is quite the life goal. Flipping the script. Not buying in to the smallness, pettiness, and cruelty you see around you.

Imagine the ripple effects of such kindness.

Perhaps you’ve heard the story of the man and the starfish. In sum, a man is walking along the beach at low tide finding starfish that have landed too far above the water line to survive. He dislodges them and throws them back into the ocean. A bystander is astonished and scolds him, saying that he will never be able to make a difference as there are miles and miles of beach with hundreds of stranded starfish. The man responds, tossing another back into the ocean, “Made a difference to that one,” he remarks.

Making a difference doesn’t have to be a grand gesture. It can be quite small, perhaps only affecting the person in front of you right now. Perhaps the difference is choosing an unexpected response to cruelty. Perhaps the response is to not lose hope.

Hang in there. The starfish are right in front of you on your path if you choose to see them.

An infinite succession of presents.

Posted on by Shari Swanson

This moment we are in is but one in the collection of moments that make a life, a story, a history. Each moment building on the last, forward toward a powerful culmination. To stay hopeful and earnest in each moment, no matter how dire, is a testament to what we hold dear, to hope, to a belief that all things will ultimately work together for good.

As Howard Zinn says,

TO BE HOPEFUL in bad times is not just foolishly romantic. It is based on the fact that human history is a history not only of cruelty, but also of compassion, sacrifice, courage, kindness.
What we choose to emphasize in this complex history will determine our lives. If we see only the worst, it destroys our capacity to do something. If we remember those times and places—and there are so many—where people have behaved magnificently, this gives us the energy to act, and at least the possibility of sending this spinning top of a world in a different direction.
And if we do act, in however small a way, we don’t have to wait for some grand utopian future. The future is an infinite succession of presents, and to live now as we think human beings should live, in defiance of all that is bad around us, is itself a marvelous victory.

Do not give up on the beliefs you have. To be decent, kind, not returning hate for hate, to speak truth to power, to retain hope for a brighter future, a future willing to work for. That is a marvelous victory.

Walking humbly.

Posted on by Shari Swanson

When we find ourselves in challenging times and are unsure which way to turn, let these words help guide you. 

Do justice. Peace, justice, love are things we do and bring about, not things we wait for. With our best discernment, we offer ourselves to the world, hoping to make a difference. Kind words, loving hearts, calm demeanors, patience, forbearance, and forgiveness. The way of the One we follow. A servant’s heart but a leader’s strength. 

Love mercy. Oh, how the world loves vengeance, cancelling, grudges, getting even, punishment. To love mercy is a kinder, gentler path, one that believes in the redeem-ability of every last one of us. One that doesn’t insist on being avenged or having the last word. One that delights in forgiveness and healing. 

Walk humbly. No matter how hard we try to do or be right, we may be wrong. The other guy might be right. And, get this, God loves the other guy as much as God love you.