Smuggling Grace

Remember by Joy Harjo

Remember the sky that you were born under,
know each of the star’s stories.
Remember the moon, know who she is.
Remember the sun’s birth at dawn, that is the
strongest point of time. Remember sundown
and the giving away to night.
Remember your birth, how your mother struggled
to give you form and breath. You are evidence of
her life, and her mother’s, and hers.
Remember your father. He is your life, also.
Remember the earth whose skin you are:
red earth, black earth, yellow earth, white earth
brown earth, we are earth.
Remember the plants, trees, animal life who all have their
tribes, their families, their histories, too. Talk to them,
listen to them. They are alive poems.
Remember the wind. Remember her voice. She knows the
origin of this universe.
Remember you are all people and all people
are you.
Remember you are this universe and this
universe is you.
Remember all is in motion, is growing, is you.
Remember language comes from this.
Remember the dance language is, that life is.
Remember.

Is there a word, phrase, or image that speaks to you?

I rolled back into town after being away for a few days, and as I crossed the state line, I was floored at how green my home has become. Specifically, I noticed how full the trees are with bright green leaves.

Of course, it shouldn’t seem shocking to notice that leaves are on trees, precisely right where they belong. But when you live a sizeable portion of the year with bare trees, you definitely notice when the leaves have arrived in their fullness.

And I suppose, that’s true about many things. We have capacity for additional gratitude and detailed noticing when we’ve lived without, and then see a change, fulfillment, or return. I hope to pay attention to these other examples too.

— Renee Roederer

Remember well, and bear in mind
that a blue jay’s tail sticks out behind.

That tail is only ever going to go in one direction.

There are some things you can always count on.

There are people in this world who love you unconditionally.

— Renee Roederer
P.S. — where this phrase comes from

— Photos by Renee Roederer

Syncing up our heartbeats.

I was coming down a hill on my bike when I saw a delivery van parked on the street outside a house. On the side of the van, a slogan read,

ETA: Right Now

This situation meant I had to leave the bike lane: Right Then. The van was in my way. But I digress.

Once I returned to my rightful part of the road, I found myself thinking about ETA: Right Now.

Beyond letting us know that this van moves fast, or is delivering — right now! — it made me think about how often we have to be on, or how often we feel like we have to be available immediately. This can creep into our day and into our living.

For the record, I’m also fine with,

ETA: At a time that works for us both.
ETA: After my body gets some rest.
ETA: Let’s meet in the middle.
ETA: Can you come to me?

— Renee Roederer

Small Wire by Anne Sexton

My faith
is a great weight
hung on a small wire,
as doth the spider
hang her baby on a thin web,
as doth the vine,
twiggy and wooden,
hold up grapes
like eyeballs,
as many angels
dance on the head of a pin.

God does not need
too much wire to keep Him there,
just a thin vein,
with blood pushing back and forth in it,
and some love.
As it has been said:
Love and a cough
cannot be concealed.
Even a small cough.
Even a small love.
So if you have only a thin wire,
God does not mind.
He will enter your hands
as easily as ten cents used to
bring forth a Coke.

Is there a word, phrase, or image that stands out to you in a particular way?

Yesterday, I asked, “How expansive can a sense of home be?”

I was returning to my town and my house and was on a plane, in fact, when I read an email from Richard Rohr. He talks about these themes too.

He says,

“In the metaphor of life as a journey, I think it’s finally about coming back home to where we started,” and, “I don’t know where that trust comes from or even what home is like, but I know I’m not going to someplace new. I’m going to all the places I’ve known deeply. They’re pointing me to the big deep, the Big Real. I do think homecoming is what it’s all about.”

There is something of an internal homecoming when we internalize all the places and people we’ve known deeply. Perhaps we do also move again or travel from place to place. But some part of homecoming is internal. Good food for thought.

—Renee Roederer