All the concentric circles of who we are.

We are complicated and carry with us all the ages we have been and life experiences we have had. As Sandra Cisneros put it:

What they don’t understand about birthdays and what they never tell you is that when you’re eleven, you’re also ten, and nine, and eight, and seven, and six, and five, and four, and three, and two, and one. And when you wake up on your eleventh birthday you expect to feel eleven, but you don’t.

So at 63, we can still long for a parent’s unconditional love rather than constant harsh judgment or expectation, or quiver in excitement over an upcoming holiday, or find ourselves sleepless over a stupid thing we said yet again. There is no ta-da moment where we wake up and suddenly make only good decisions and wise pronouncements.

It is all a becoming.

And hopefully those experiences we have had at all those prior ages help increase our empathy and understanding of others bumbling along, also becoming. Because what it really is, this thing called life, is putting one foot in front of the other and keeping on, striving.

Feeling sonder?

Sonder. A made-up word for a very real emotion. In his Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows, John Koenig defines it: “sonder, n. the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own.”

It’s a remarkable realization. We are all the stars of our own lives. We have our supporting casts filled with friends and families, maybe a foe or two, and then a whole world of incidental extras to our story. People behind the lit windows or sitting quiet on a shared bus or in some far off country. When we pause, we realize that they, too, have rich and complex stories filled with their own casts of characters. Their sorrows and joys are as real to them as ours to us.

Koenig has created a remarkable video to illustrate this notion of sonder. And his Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows is well worth your time. It is filled with profound insight and wonder.

But what to do with this realization, this feeling of sonder? It creates more than a passing fancy in us, doesn’t it? It leads to looking others in the eyes with respect rather than dismissing them as somehow lesser. It leads us to want to help ease their pain, as we realize that pain is as deep and biting as any we ourselves have felt, maybe even worse. It leads us to reevaluate our own centrality. Yes, we are central to our own stories, by virtue of our limited perspectives. But we don’t need to be bound in the fetters of our own subjectivity. We are central to our own stories, but not to the whole story, the world’s story, humanity’s story. There we are part of a vast cast of players, each at once both the star of their own story, and an extra in someone else’s.

What lasts, anyway?

is so easy to work, work, work, building up our resumés. Noses to the grindstone. Shouldering on. Or for those who aren’t in jobs any longer, filling our days with tasks, scrolling the news. But, when it all comes to a stop, when we are done on this Earth, have we built up what really matters?

Will we leave behind people who loved us, who we loved with everything we had to give while we had the chance to give it? Have we showed our people how much they mean to us? Have we dared to truly love?

Or will we leave too much left unsaid, unfelt, unloved?

We still have time to choose.

This is today.

Do not lose heart. The challenges you see today are the ones you must face. You are strong enough to do your part, and you will find allies everywhere you look.

Do not be afraid.

You may feel you are riding on stormy seas, but look around you. In the words of Dr. Clarissa Pinkola Estes:

Look out over the prow; there are millions of boats of righteous souls on the waters with you. Even though your veneers may shiver from every wave in this stormy roil, I assure you that the long timbers composing your prow and rudder come from a greater forest. That long-grained lumber is known to withstand storms, to hold together, to hold its own, and to advance, regardless.

In any dark time, there is a tendency to veer toward fainting over how much is wrong or unmended in the world. Do not focus on that. There is a tendency, too, to fall into being weakened by dwelling on what is outside your reach, by what cannot yet be. Do not focus there. That is spending the wind without raising the sails.

We are needed, that is all we can know. And though we meet resistance, we more so will meet great souls who will hail us, love us and guide us, and we will know them when they appear. Didn’t you say you were a believer? Didn’t you say you pledged to listen to a voice greater? Didn’t you ask for grace? Don’t you remember that to be in grace means to submit to the voice greater?

Ours is not the task of fixing the entire world all at once, but of stretching out to mend the part of the world that is within our reach. Any small, calm thing that one soul can do to help another soul, to assist some portion of this poor suffering world, will help immensely. It is not given to us to know which acts or by whom, will cause the critical mass to tip toward an enduring good.

You do not need to do everything. Do what you can, where you can, with what you can. Your actions combined with actions from millions of like-minded individuals will make a difference for good.

Do not lose heart.

Hope in dark times.

Sunrise defeats night. The darkness will be driven away. When in the midst of the darkness, it may feel unending, but as day follows night, this, too, shall pass. The beauty of a sunrise is a lovely image to keep in mind when going through a problem. As sunrise defeats night, so hope conquers a problem. In times of great difficulty, we must hold on to hope that things will improve and that we can help.

Jane Goodall speaks to her hope for our future and, specifically, her hope in our youth in this moving speech.

She is right: if we don’t have hope, we give up, we do nothing. She says, “In this world of violence and fear, we must have hope for a better future.” That hope will sustain us and give us strength to solve the problems we face, as surely as day will follow night if we hold on.

We pray.

In a grieving, struggling world, we pray. Full of humility, we fall to our knees. Gobsmacked by the fragility of life and the interconnectedness of all creation, we lift our eyes to the Lord and join voices around the world to offer thanks, plead for mercy, and reach for hope. 

Never before has it been more obvious that we belong to each other and are all in this together. 

Here is your country.

When we think of America, what do we picture? Surely the abundance of natural beauty, much of it, 230 million acres worth, protected by President Roosevelt. National Parks, wildlife refuges, forests, oceans, Great Lakes.

Perhaps we also think of American ideals like freedom in religion and speech, the right to petition the government for redress of grievances, the concept of equal justice under the law, the notion of the American dream that no matter where you come from, you can rise above your circumstances with integrity and hard work. American values.

Perhaps we picture our strength in diversity, of backgrounds, countries of origin, viewpoints, and culture. A heterogeneous mix of people coming together e plutibus unum, out of many, one.

President Roosevelt urged us to cherish our country, its natural wonders and resources, its history and romance, its sacred heritage for our children and children’s children. Let us heed his words. America is a special place and must be protected, valued, and nurtured.

How does your religion impact your life?

I wonder about Christians responding to the challenges confronting our world right now. How does worshipping a humble carpenter, a servant, a loving non-violent man, inform our choices now?

He shunned power. He empathized with the suffering of others. He humbled himself even unto death.

I wonder about the choices he made while tempted in the desert before embarking on his ministry:

Then Jesus was led by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil. After fasting forty days and forty nights, he was hungry. The tempter came to him and said, “If you are the Son of God, tell these stones to become bread.”

Jesus answered, “It is written: ‘Man shall not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.’”

Then the devil took him to the holy city and had him stand on the highest point of the temple.“If you are the Son of God,” he said, “throw yourself down. For it is written:

“‘He will command his angels concerning you,
    and they will lift you up in their hands,
    so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.’”

Jesus answered him, “It is also written: ‘Do not put the Lord your God to the test.’”

Again, the devil took him to a very high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world and their splendor. “All this I will give you,” he said, “if you will bow down and worship me.”

10 Jesus said to him, “Away from me, Satan! For it is written: ‘Worship the Lord your God, and serve him only.’”

11 Then the devil left him, and angels came and attended him.

Matthew 4:1-11

Would Christians today think he made the right decision to eschew power? A while back, WWJD (What would Jesus do?) was a common question. It’s still worth thinking about now.

We see Jesus saving the lost, healing the sick, speaking truth to power, standing up for the marginalized, refusing to grab power. Isn’t that what he would expect those of us who follow him to do now?

And he would, of course, tell us, as he told so many when he walked this Earth,

Do not be afraid.

Hello, Sunshine!

If you look carefully, can you tell who is suffering a storm in their lives? Maybe the fog of depression, the tumult of marital strife, the buffeting of indecision, the downpour of failure? Often a calm demeanor masks these inner storms. Maybe you’ve experienced some rough weather of your own. In all of these situations, your personal sunshine–a warm smile and cheerful disposition–can quiet the storms, or at least make people feel not quite so lonely until the sun shines again. Today, bring your sunshine with you; you never know who is in a stormy place.

Are you lonely?

Are you lonely? Does your heart long to be heard and understood? For someone to get you? And for you to really hear someone in return? Are you yearning to share your heart’s stories with someone else?

Loneliness has nothing to do, really, with being alone. In fact, the worst way to be lonely might be when you are with someone else but not feeling connected.

Is there a way to ease our heart’s loneliness?

One possibility is to open yourself up. Share your true thoughts and feelings, not the masks you wear in the world, but your true self. And then be a safe place for someone else to be naked emotionally with you. Scary, yes. But what good is it if you’re not being yourself in your own relationships?

To speak to that loneliness in all of us, take a moment to savor this beautiful poem by Mary Oliver and listen for the world calling you into your place in the family of things.

Wild Geese

by Mary Oliver

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting —
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.