I pace around the community theater, chatting with friends supporting my one-act play in a local festival. Anxiety is stifled with a tight smile and lame humor. Absentmindedly, I rub my hands together, one looping over the other, each squeeze reinforcing my desire to keep my cool and stay calm. A friend reaches out with one gentle hand and stills mine without saying a word. I freeze momentarily. What am I doing? Why the hand-wringing? What is it
It’s sad, so sad It’s a sad, sad situation And it’s gettin’ more and more absurd It’s sad, so sad Why can’t we talk it over Oh it seems to me That sorry seems to be the hardest word “Sorry Seems To Be the Hardest Word,” by Elton John and Bernie Taupin This song has been rolling through my mind over the past couple of days. It’s an old favorite that’s taken on a
“It is okay to dream and have hope.” Affirmations are wonderful things, when I believe that they are true and possible. But I don’t always believe that. I don’t always trust that it is okay to dream and have hope. Sometimes, I want guarantees, to be able to see into the future, to KNOW without a shadow of a doubt that my dreams will come true, and only then am I able to have hope.
I came across a book several months ago by Richard Rohr, titled Breathing Under Water: Spirituality and the Twelve Steps. The introduction to the book included the following poem by Sr. Carol Bieleck, RSCJ: Breathing Under Water I built my house by the sea. Not on the sands, mind you; not on the shifting sand. And I built it of rock. A strong house by a strong sea. And we got well acquainted, the sea
Someone in my life told me recently that I’m a truth teller. It felt good to hear that, because I believe telling the truth is the only thing that releases the pain of the past, and opens the door to living in the present moment. It’s not easy, but it is redemptive. But it is so much easier for me to tell the truth when doing so makes me look good. It has been a