Author: gracesmuggler

Symbiosis is rad.

We tend to think of survival as competitive — survival of the fittest, and “it’s a dog eat dog world”– but when we zoom in really close, we see that nature is so frequently cooperative. And when we zoom out and look at earth as a whole, we see that nature exists as large systems of interdependence.

Our survival requires cooperation too.

One of my chosen family members came to town and stayed the night with me. We spent the late afternoon and evening bopping around to various places on the bus, and we walked 20,000+ steps for the day. (By the way, this post is about this person being in their element, but this kind of day is so very much in my element.)

When we got off the bus to go home for the last time, I said, “Since we’re close, would you mind if we walked over to Panera for me to get a coffee for the morning?”

“Sure. Can I go to the Barnes and Noble next door?” she asked with sudden excitement.

“Of course, but this will also be the quickest coffee-getting ever.”

“Okay!” And then she ran! She booked a three minute run to the Barnes and Noble, and she ran with such joyful abandon toward those books. It was hilarious watching her grow smaller as she got further away on that very purposeful run. And I thought, “This is the her-est thing ever.” She loves learning everything. She’s got to sprint toward books.

After that, I walked the rest of the way slowly on purpose. And I took a longer time getting that coffee on purpose. And when I walked inside Barnes and Noble, I said, “Let’s stay here a while.”

She was in her element for sure.

–Renee Roederer

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As Bessel van der Kolk’s book states, the body does indeed keep the score.

When people have gone through trauma and high stressors, their emotional processing is often delayed until they feel safer situationally, relationally, and psychologically. Alongside anything we’ve experienced personally, we should not underestimate how challenging this pandemic has been for us collectively over the last two years.

We’re reaching a period of time when weather is warming and COVID numbers are lower, so we have more occasions to be outside in nature and enjoy the presence of our close relationships through visits, shared meals, events, and travel. This increases our sense of emotional safety. This is a wonderful shift, but alongside it, older, unprocessed feelings may rise to the service. And at the exact same time, we are in the precise anniversary window of the initial lockdown period of the pandemic, and our bodies remember that anniversary too.

With both of these lining up at the exact same time — increased relational safety and an anniversary period — we may notice that people are experiencing difficult emotions and somatic reactions in their bodies. People are anxious, exhausted, irritable, sensitive, or insecure — sometimes, without even knowing why. Stressors that may have seemed mild at another time suddenly may seem insurmountable. People find themselves living multiple stories at once too: An experience is stressful in the present, but additionally, it seems to rhyme with old childhood wounds, so these suddenly rise to the surface in our emotions, and people find themselves reliving and reenacting those old stories in the present.

One of the best ways to care for all of this is to notice it happening and realize that it makes sense. This is a time to care for our needs, practice gentleness with ourselves and others, and honor the overlapping stories that emerge. These experiences are much more painful and disruptive if we aren’t fully conscious of them, or we don’t feel like they make any sense. They do. And the dual timing of this increased relational safety and this significant anniversary will invite our awareness and deep care.

–Renee Roederer

The calendar says spring, but Michigan is in a bit of an in-between time. Either way, it’s pretty.

Here are some recent photos of trees and snow from the Roscommon State Forest Area and of Lake Huron in Pinconning, Michigan.

— Photos by Renee Roederer

Here’s a simple image of a tree. Nothing too exciting, though its roots and its shade are lovely. This tree stands outside of the School of Music at the University of Louisville.

On April 2, 2002, I sat under this tree and made a decision that I would go to seminary, and that was exactly 20 years ago today. I did indeed move in that direction a few years after my college graduation, and it set much in motion within my life. My larger sense of calling has taken a number of turns since that day, and twenty years later, that’s put me in some unique places and positions that I wouldn’t have anticipated at the time.

I honor this moment because it brought a lot of people into my life. It brought chapters of unfolding visions into my life. It set change in motion, not only because I decided this is what was next for me, but it set me on a path of numerous changes — internal changes inside me, deeper ways of viewing life and spirituality, multiple places I eventually would call home, and introductions to people I cannot imagine life without.

I’m grateful to honor this decision point from half my life ago. It’s led me in a lot of meaningful directions.

–Renee Roederer

Yesterday was Trans Day of Visibility, but many of the trans people in my life didn’t feel good about it. Visibility without protection is danger.

There is an organized, intentional effort to put dangerous forms of legislation in place all around the country, and transphobia is being wielded to make trans people, trans children, and their parents all suspect. Some of this legislation attempts to keep them from healthcare resources they need.

I saw this beautiful piece on Instagram yesterday from @ezra.furman.visions, and I thought I would share that. A world of protected visibility for trans people would look like this:

It reads,

Trans day of uncontrollable laughter. Trans day of structures of love solid as rock. Trans day of looking after one another even with nothing’s wrong at all. Trans day of dancing until your sweat surely contains detectable traces of the music playing. Trans day of direct access to divinity. Trans day of angelic clarity of mission. Trans day of the unkillable smile. Trans day of the wilderness doesn’t care what anyone calls it. Trans day of good food we made together. Trans day of playing with animals. Trans day of everyday life as prayer in itself. Trans day of spinning in circles whirling and whirling out beyond any boundaries they drew for us.

I love when people are really into quirky, overly-specific niche interests. I wouldn’t say this rises to a niche interest per se, but I am always recommending what I’m watching to all my friends. So bringing those two things together, I want to make a recommendation for a show for you all to watch.

Is It Cake? is an amazing, super niche-interesty, very wholesome show. I highly recommend it.

I don’t know how you’re feeling, but I have had a strange, persistent migraine for days.

I’ve asked myself what this is about, because for me, these are usually brought on by stress, and once I asked myself the question, I was reminded that this period of time is the 2 year anniversary of the pandemic lockdown. Everything had shut down, and we were mostly holed up in our homes. It had been enough days that the new shock of it was less and the “we’re going to need to protect ourselves and power through this” was more.

With the time change and the change in weather, I think our bodies remember what was going on two years ago.

Let’s be kind to ourselves.

–Renee Roederer

I snapped a photo a few days ago of the sky, seen above. There’s no filter here. Through the clouds, the sun is shining like a rainbow halo. Apparently, some call this “sundogs.” That’s new information I’ve never heard before, and upon cursory googling, I still don’t know how this phenomenon got its name.

Its scientific name is parhelia, a concentrated patch of sunlight that can sometimes be seen at 22 degrees on either side of the sun. This is refracted light through hexagonal ice crystals in cirrostratus clouds.

When I looked up to take this picture, I only saw the sun and a very blue sky. I suppose there’s usually more than we can perceive with our own senses.

–Renee Roederer