Author: gracesmuggler

Today by Billy Collins
If ever there were a spring day so perfect,
so uplifted by a warm intermittent breeze

that it made you want to throw
open all the windows in the house

and unlatch the door to the canary’s cage,
indeed, rip the little door from its jamb,

a day when the cool brick paths
and the garden bursting with peonies

seemed so etched in sunlight
that you felt like taking

a hammer to the glass paperweight
on the living room end table,

releasing the inhabitants
from their snow-covered cottage

so they could walk out,
holding hands and squinting

into this larger dome of blue and white,
well, today is just that kind of day.

Does any word, phrase, or image stand out to you in a particular way?

I was Zooming down the bike lane, when I heard several red-winged blackbirds singing. They’ve returned. This is always my marker that we’ve arrived toward a warmer season. The wind began to blow, and I smelled the scent of the sunscreen that has been in a drawer all winter.

It’s a different time, and a different part of me is showing up too.

What are your markers of a new season?

—Renee Roederer

This mantra has gotten me through a number of situations, both interpersonal and collective:

“As much as it’s up to me, I want to be at peace with [person, people, community],
But I’m not going to denigrate my own sense of peace to give them a false one.”

I hope that helps in a number of directions.

—Renee Roederer

If you’ve been following along with my writing on Smuggling Grace over the last few days, you’ll know that I headed to Texas to see the total eclipse of the sun. And just as projected, we had clouds throughout the day.

This is a bit sad because we had clouds projected for three days, and on the other two, it lifted at some point. But not during totality on the day of the eclipse. The sun did peek out a couple times while it was in process. I was glad to see that. We did get to enjoy the darkness also.

But I thoroughly enjoyed seeing everyone sharing their images of the day on social media. They watched from a variety of locations, and people seemed to be in awe together. I read multiple people who said, “That was the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen.”

I love the collective experience.

— Renee Roederer

Over the last three days, I’ve zoomed around Texas on e-bikes more than 100 miles with one of my very favorite people. We’ve moved fast, seen gorgeous scenery, and felt the wind blow in our face. It’s been exhilarating, and it’s helped me feel a deep sense of presence. I’ve felt connected to my body, my surroundings, and to the relationships around me.

Last evening, while doing this, I thought, “This is the best memory I’ve made this year.” There are other honorable mentions that stand out too, but this was pretty incredible. In these moments, I’ve felt deeply alive.

We carry so many difficult problems — our own, or those around us, or those half a globe away. Likely, we feel all of these in waves, and the emotions around them are so valid. These needs, whether they are internal, interpersonal, systemic, or international, deserve our attention and solidarity. We want to care deeply for these challenges and the people within them.

I also hope that our sense of aliveness helps too, not only because it recharges us, but because it casts a vision for something else. Howard Thurman used to say, “Don’t ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive and go do it. Because what the world needs are people who have come alive.”

We do need to ask what the world needs. But within that asking, hoping, and dreaming, may our aliveness yield more aliveness. May it cast a vision for something better and give us the strength and inspiration to put it into action.

—Renee Roederer

— Photos by Renee Roederer

Well, I’m hoping for a weather miracle (that is, other than the incredible astronomical miracle already scheduled) because it appears that my eclipse experience is going to be… eclipsed. Clouds are in the forecast.

I’m getting on a plane to Texas to see this wild phenomenon, but unless there’s a change, I won’t see the solar eclipse at all. I thought Texas would have better odds of clear skies, but alas, better odds are not perfect odds.

But let me be an advocate: If YOU have any ability to go see the solar eclipse on Monday, and especially, if you can get to the path of totality, I am telling you, the experience will be equal parts super and surreal. It is unlike anything else, and I cannot recommend it enough.

In 2017, I saw the total eclipse of the sun in a library parking lot in Russellville, Kentucky. It had such a meaningful impression on me that soon after, I got an eclipse tattoo. (Side note: I’ve really been looking forward to being matchy-matchy with this one this year). After that first experience, I knew I was definitely going to make plans for the one in 2024. I did, and… I might not luck out this time.

But if you can, I hope you will. You won’t regret it.

—Renee Roederer

Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation, by Wendell Berry

…So, friends, every day do something

that won’t compute. Love the Lord.

Love the world. Work for nothing.

Take all that you have and be poor.

Love someone who does not deserve it…

Give your approval to all you cannot

understand…

Ask the questions that have no answers. 

…Plant sequoias.

Say that your main crop is the forest

that you did not plant,

that you will not live to harvest.

Say that the leaves are harvested

when they have rotted into the mold.

Call that profit. Prophesy such returns.

Put your faith in the two inches of humus

that will build under the trees

every thousand years.

Listen to carrion — put your ear

close, and hear the faint chattering

of the songs that are to come.

Expect the end of the world. Laugh.

Laughter is immeasurable. Be joyful

though you have considered all the facts.

Go with your love to the fields.

Lie easy in the shade. Rest your head

in her lap. 

… Be like the fox

who makes more tracks than necessary,

some in the wrong direction.

Practice resurrection.