making a difference

Being shelter.

Posted on by Shari Swanson

Of all the compliments you could receive, perhaps the best is that you feel like shelter. That, in all the storms and chaos that swirl around us, talking to you feels like safety. Not in the sense of being a yes man or echo chamber, or even in the sense of being able to do anything to stop the storm, but in the sense of home. 

“I find it shelter when I speak to you,” says Emily Dickinson. What might we do and say to make someone feel that way? Shelter implies that the storm is still swirling, the elements are still fierce, but talking to you is a respite from that and an entry into something welcoming and safe. A place where you are known, and heard, and cared for. A place of comfort. 

Certainly there are plenty of people making themselves someone’s storm. Wouldn’t it be wonderful to be someone’s shelter instead?

What can you do in this increasingly chaotic and exhausting world for someone to find it shelter when they talk with you?

Melting pot or mosaic?

Posted on by Shari Swanson


When I was a girl, text books used the term ‘melting pot’ to describe America as if everyone were thrown into one big pot and all the differences were boiled out, with America becoming just one big homogenous pot of glop. But better metaphors have popped up in the years since. Such as a salad bowl:

We don’t need a melting pot in this country, folks. We need a salad bowl. In a salad bowl, you put in the different things. You want the vegetables – the lettuce, the cucumbers, the onions, the green peppers – to maintain their identity. You appreciate differences.Jane Elliot

But perhaps my favorite is Jimmy Carter’s:

We become not a melting pot but a beautiful mosaic. Different people, different beliefs, different yearnings, different hopes, different dreams.Jimmy Carter

I love the idea of a mosaic to define America—beauty in all the bits and pieces, each a small distinct individual unit but also a necessary part of a larger picture. 

No matter how you describe it, America at its best, living up to its ideals, is stronger because of its diversity, the unique perspectives, the mix of voices, backgrounds, cultures, and traditions.

Thankful for teachers.

Posted on by Shari Swanson

We are each born helpless. How we got from there to where we are now depended on the generosity of many people. Among those are our teachers, those people who devoted their time to making sure we understood the world around us and how to negotiate the ups and downs of the road ahead. Those teachers who went beyond the lesson plan to help us learn not just facts, but how to think and analyze, how to care and feel, and how to reach out to others deserve our unending gratitude.

Everyday saints.

Posted on by Shari Swanson

Sometimes I think saints must have been extraordinary people, somehow different from the rest of us lugs, vested, perhaps, with some superior spiritual gifts or insights.

But then I realize, as did Vonnegut below, nope, just people like us, doing their best.

Whether we are ever canonized or not, this is our ‘job,’ isn’t it? To ‘behave decently in an indecent society’.

And then comes the hard part, to trust that your behaving decently will make a difference, whether you ever know about it or not.

Just keep making those ripples.

Your imperfect offering.

Posted on by Shari Swanson

Perfection can be the enemy of progress. When we need to move forward, we often wait until we come up with a perfect solution, sometimes so long that the opportunity to make our contribution passes. It is not only ok to be fallible, it is all we’ve got to work with: Our imperfect, fallible, often short-sighted selves doing our best to make the world a better place right here, right now, with what is right in front of us.

Take a minute to watch this lovely video of Leonard Cohen singing a reminder that perfection isn’t an option; we must do our best now.

I shall not pass this way again.

Posted on by Shari Swanson

There is an elephant in the room. We don’t talk about it, we try not to think about it, we pretend it doesn’t exist. That elephant is the fact that we are all on a one way journey through this life. Our time is limited. None of us knows in advance when our end of the journey will come, but that end will come.

When we pull ourselves out of denial and gaze directly at this elephant, we can realize something important: our opportunities should be seized now. That good we can do? Don’t put it off. That kind word? Say it. That gift or remembrance? Give it now.

We will not have this place and time and opportunity to make a difference again.

Let it begin with me.

Posted on by Shari Swanson

We wish for peace but quarrel with our neighbor. We tremble from talk of war but allow ourselves to respond to others with hate, sarcasm, anger, and animosity. We expect leaders to be the adults in the room, but mock and deride them mercilessly. Peace, it seems, is something for other people out there to do and strive for because we are angry and fed up and impatient, and peace isn’t in our everyday lexicon at the moment.

But we can fight for peace, by controlling ourselves, treating each other respectfully, and speaking out against injustice. Take a minute to watch this beautiful video.

Let there be peace on earth
And let it begin with me
Let there be peace on earth
The peace that was meant to be
With God as our father
Brothers all are we
Let me walk with my brother
In perfect harmony

Let peace begin with me
Let this be the moment now
With every step I take
Let this be my solemn vow
To take each moment
And live each moment
To take each moment
And live each moment
To take each moment
And live each moment
In peace eternally
Let there be peace on earth
Let there be peace on earth
Let there be peace on earth
And let it begin
With me (me)
With me

Songwriters: Jill Jackson / Sy Miller

Wiping the dust off our souls.

Posted on by Shari Swanson

It is so easy to get discouraged when living a creative life. Your words are criticized; your paintings don’t sell. “They” don’t believe you have any promise. Sometimes the struggle to be commercially successful in a creative field can be so daunting that you abandon the art. But then you remember that art isn’t about “them” or “success” or “critical acclaim” at all. It’s about bringing your truths into the light, being creative, pushing yourself, being you.

Nowhere is this better illustrated than in the case of Henri Rousseau, a forty year old toll collector who wanted to paint. His work was derided, and yet he continued. He found joy in the painting. Not until the end of his life did anyone take his work seriously. As summarized by Maria Popova:

Long before history came to celebrate him as one of the greatest artists of his era, long before he was honored by major retrospectives by such iconic institutions as the MoMA and the Tate Museum, long before Sylvia Plath began weaving homages to him into her poetry, he spent a lifetime being not merely dismissed but ridiculed. And yet Rousseau — who was born into poverty, began working alongside his plumber father as a young boy, still worked as a toll collector by the age of forty, and was entirely self-taught in painting — withstood the unending barrage of harsh criticism with which his art was met during his entire life, and continued to paint from a deep place of creative conviction, with an irrepressible impulse to make art anyway…. [Rousseau’s life is] an emboldening real-life story, and a stunningly illustrated one, of remarkable resilience and optimism in the face of public criticism, of cultivating a center so solid and a creative vision so unflinching that no outside attack can demolish it and obstruct its transmutation into greatness.

The message from Rousseau’s life speaks to all of us: he was a success all along. He persevered with a remarkable resilience to produce work that spoke to him and pursued a passion that made him happy. That, the pursuit of great art, rather than the financial success was what gave his journey depth and meaning and lifted up his soul.

Adulting.

Posted on by Shari Swanson

Toni Morrison had a gift for complexity and nuance in her writing. Multi-dimensional characters and lots of gray area rule the day in her work.

I found it interesting to hear this perspective from her:

I just think goodness is more interesting. Evil is constant. You can think of different ways to murder people, but you can do that at age five. But you have to be an adult to consciously, deliberately be good — and that’s complicated.

It’s an age-old question whether people are inherently good, whether altruism is learned or instinctive, whether selflessness develops naturally.

But there definitely is an intentionality to doing good, choosing kindness, forgiving, welcoming, holding your tongue. And as we grow older and cast off our childish ways, we learn the wisdom of restraint and forbearance.

And we learn the power of good because often we are on the receiving end of it and know how much it matters.

And then when it’s our turn, we want to pass it on.

Spit venom or heal a broken soul?

Posted on by Shari Swanson

It’s remarkable how powerful words, just words, are. Most of us can remember a criticism that hurt, maybe more than we can remember a compliment.

In the hands of a parent, words can be deflating or encouraging, critical or comforting. A parent who is never satisfied no matter the child’s achievement can inflict lifelong damage. And the effect of those words will last with that child well into adulthood and inform how they, in turn, will talk with their own children. A sad cycle.

These days, lies have a horrible power to cause almost irreversible damage. Social media can amplify those lies, and, before you can think twice, your words can become venom.

No doubt words have power. The question becomes how do we want to use that power. In this award-winning speech, Mohammed Qahtani makes a case for choosing wisely.