Author: gracesmuggler

Yesterday evening, I sent a group message to some of my closest friends and named honestly how exhausted I am. Things are fine in my world, but over the last few weeks, I’ve had a lot of demands on my time and energy. Some have involved projects I love, but mostly, I have a sense that so many people are struggling all at the same time. My heart feels for many loved ones and for our collective world of loved ones who are anxious, sad, on edge, or unsure of life’s direction — and these, on top of any of the daily stressors we face.

I’ve just really been feeling it.

It felt good to name this and share my need to rest and rejuvenate. I am writing this the evening before this post will be scheduled for publication. I will not be setting an alarm for the morning.

I’m glad that others are holding me as I’m holding these needs.

Sharing is caring, but also caring is sharing.

–Renee Roederer

Every year, we have that singular, great day in Michigan when we reach the 60s for the first time after a long winter.

And every year, like bears coming out of hibernation, we all go outside. I especially love to walk through the center of the University of Michigan campus where you can find students enjoying hammocks they’ve set up between the trees, with others sitting on the grass in all directions.

It’s wonderfully predictable and wonderfully glorious.

–Renee Roederer

I was in a community conversation on Zoom, and one of my mentors voiced a phrase that stood out to me. He was talking about how frequently people offer their help, and our response is, “I’m good. I’ve got it.”

“We may be missing out on cheerleaders who could help make us,” he said. Then he added, “We all have times when we need to lean on others and receive from their strength.”

Receive from their strength… isn’t that part of the fear we have? That we’ll utilize people’s strength toward us? Or we might zap their strength? Even just a bit? We feel so guilty, or at least, so vulnerable for receiving this, or even worse — shudder — needing it.

But the truth is, we do need it. We all actually need it.

So if we need people’s strength, and people need our strength, why don’t we live more interdependently? It’s what we actually need.

Yesterday, I shared “Don’t Hesitate,” one of my favorite poems from Mary Oliver. In that poem, she uses the phrase, “Still life has some possibility left.” I’m wondering where we’re seeing that emerge.

This also reminds me of one of my other favorite poems — “Good Bones” by Maggie Smith. I’d like to link to that today. I encourage you to read it and also imagine… where do you see life revealing possibility?

–Renee Roederer

Life is too short not to prioritize joy and delight. And sometimes, thankfully, it just finds us.

From time to time, I like to share this poem from Mary Oliver:

Don’t Hesitate
If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy, don’t hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty of lives and whole towns destroyed or about to be. We are not wise, and not very often kind. And much can never be redeemed. Still life has some possibility left. Perhaps this is its way of fighting back, that sometimes something happened better than all the riches or power in the world. It could be anything, but very likely you notice it in the instant when love begins. Anyway, that’s often the case. Anyway, whatever it is, don’t be afraid of its plenty. Joy is not made to be a crumb.

-Mary Oliver, Swan: Poems and Prose Poems

Today marks the two year anniversary of my COVID lockdown alongside most people in my state. I know this is also true for many others elsewhere. It’s always interesting to see social media memories pop up on March 12, because that was the last day of the more-typical, “Before Times.” We had no idea what was coming.

We’re still grappling with how this affected us. At the time, I felt all the disorientation that everyone did, but I could not have anticipated how remarkably isolating the next 15 months would be. I also cannot deny that alongside that unexpected struggle, I grew a lot as a person, and I wouldn’t want to give back that growth. That’s not to put a positive spin on what was traumatic for us; I’m just very aware that my struggles and growth coincided, both in very deep ways.

This was the kind of situation none of us could have ever foreseen. Now, we’re in a different position, but the pandemic is not over either. We just keep living forward in small increments of time and making meaning as we can, because how else can you live something that is uncharted? Hopefully, we haven’t lost our larger, farther cast out hopes, but maybe they come in and out of view, depending on what part of this era feels activated in our bodies at any given moment.

I don’t have any grand words or gestures to sum up these two years, either the struggles or the growth, but in both, we need to honor our grief. And it seems important to mark this day.

–Renee Roederer

Pygmy seahorses are tiny and adorable. Earlier this week, I was watching a nature documentary where one was featured, and I was floored by their cuteness. It led me on a deeper dive of learning more about them because I’m just plum delighted they exist. As adults, they’re a centimeter big, and they blend in with their coral surroundings (how do they find each other?)

When life is stressful on land, it’s just kind of nice to know that these cute beings exist.

I don’t know who needs to hear this (maybe all of us), but here’s a message from your buddy Jim Halpert.

“The version of me that you created in your mind
is not my responsibility.”

I hope your day is as good as Dee’s.

It really gets going around the 1:30 minute mark.

–Renee Roederer

There’s a lot of pain right in the world right now, and all at once, a lot of people are struggling.

Just feeling that this week. And just being real with myself about what it feels like to be feeling that.

–Renee Roederer