Smuggling Grace

Earlier this month, scientists launched the James Webb Space Telescope into space. This took place a decade later than originally planned and more than 1000% over budget. People have been working on this for a long time, and much has been invested into what it can do.

I loved listening to scientists talk about the James Webb Space Telescope on Vox’s podcast Unexplainable. One of the astronomers shared that through tools, including this telescope, we are “the universe understanding itself.” I love that language and that thought.

Likewise, NASA’s Juno mission around Jupiter has yielded knowledge and beauty. Today, enjoy the clearest images of Jupiter we’ve ever seen. You are the universe, understanding and and admiring itself.

These beautifully real images are some of the closest images of Jupiter. Jupiter is the fifth planet from the Sun and the largest in the Solar System. It is a gas giant with a mass more than two and a half times that of all the other planets in the Solar System combined, but slightly less than one-thousandth the mass of the Sun. The original image was captured by JunoCam, the camera on NASA’s Juno mission in orbit around Jupiter. This image was taken on Juno’s 22nd close pass by Jupiter on Sept. 12, 2019 with image processing done by Prateek.: NASA’s Juno Space Probe / JunoCam

I recently watched someone speak skillfully to a topic at hand but smartly slide in a phrase of snark that actually referred to another matter entirely. It seemed as though it was about this context, but instead, it was intended to convey to someone present, “I see and acknowledge how you were treated in that previous matter, and that was not okay. You have my support.”

Not everyone could catch it, but I happened to know about both contexts.

That was masterful. That was the beautiful artistry of solidarity.

–Renee Roederer

I’ve never been a big, send-cards-in-the-mail person. I confess that I never do Christmas cards, though many wonderful people send them my way, and I’m grateful for those. And in addition to the holiday time, I’ve received a lot of kind, out-of-the-blue cards during the pandemic. Even more recently, I’ve received some meaningful birthday cards.

Then recently, I’ve become a sender too.

When I was in Texas for Christmas, my chosen family gave me some Bob Ross cards. They have Bob Ross paintings on the front, and cute, little Bob Ross cards quotes inside. I’ve been sending these to community members, saying affirmations and words of appreciation. They’ve meant a lot to people.

This has also been fun to me. And this is a reminder, card or not, that surprise words of connection or affirmation mean a lot — both in the giving and the receiving.

I don’t know if you’re a card person or not, but perhaps we could prioritize sharing some words of affirmation with someone today? This is especially lovely if they’re not expecting it.

–Renee Roederer

I love to wake up early, sit in my little nook room on a couch near a fireplace-looking space heater, drink some morning coffee, and have some time to myself. I truly love it. I am an extrovert, and I do care work. I spend so much of my day in communication with people, hearing their big needs and personal celebrations, and I do this joyfully.

But I also love this early morning window of introversion. I need it. It’s necessary.

What is your sacrosanct downtime? What does it look like? What do you do? What do you not do?

–Renee Roederer

Dwight L. Wilson, one of my mentors, is publishing a book of modern psalms under the title, “Joyful Perseverance.” I believe those words convey so much, and this includes as many questions as declarations.

How do we experience joy in an era when we are working to persevere?

When we’ve come through difficulty, is there a certain type of joy on the other side?

Is perseverance itself joyful? Can resilience feel joyful in our bodies? In our communities?

Can joy and perseverance coexist?

Can we share the benefits of each other’s joy, even in a time when perseverance is paramount and requiring much of our energy?

Can communities persevere by upholding occasions to celebrate and delight in their members?

Many questions and many stories could fall under the title, “Joyful Perseverance.” I only know this — when we have moments to celebrate life and the gift of each other, it’s important to make joy-filled space for it.

–Renee Roederer

I was in a Zoom meeting last week in which people were meeting each other for the first time. The host was interviewing a few of us us. We had already talked about vision for an organization, our experience in community work, and the importance of community dialogue. Then he asked,

What’s your favorite sea creature?

Everyone on the screen got to answer that question, and the answers were really silly and delightful. I found myself enjoying that playfulness became a part of this meeting too.

This week, I’m going to be holding a number of meetings as well, and I hope that moments of connectional silliness can show up at the right times.

Oh, and also, it’s a cuttlefish. Oh, and also, narwhals are real.

–Renee Roederer

Our worth is not based upon our productivity.

This is the caveat to everything else I’m going to say (and the once-more reminder).

Our worth is not based upon our productivity.

Mastery feels good. A goal achieved feels good. The quick “down, up” stroke of a check mark on a list feels good.

There are days when we’re depressed, languishing, or lethargic, and we cannot do these. And that is valid and okay. Once more, our worth is not based upon our productivity. There are also days when we are anxious, and it’s difficult to get started. That is valid and okay too.

But I remember being in a stress reduction class, and we talked about setting goals, even small ones — how setting an intention for them and then acting upon them can provide a vital benefit to our mental health. When we’re depressed, languishing, lethargic, or anxious, small goals are immensely significant ones. They’re valid. They matter. Those small goals, either written down, or internalized bring a good and meaningful feeling when we’ve taken action on them.

I think about a wise statement from a therapist I know. “I like ask myself — not, “Do I want to do this?” — but, “Will I have wanted to do this?”

In other words, on the other side of that action, maybe even the one I don’t feel like doing, will I feel better? Will I be glad that I did it?

–Renee Roederer

Sometimes, we can get too perfectionistic about our tasks and lists as well. One day when I was feeling like that, I wrote a poem, entitled, “For the Goal.”

I facilitate five support groups in my work role at the Epilepsy Foundation of Michigan, and this is one of my favorite aspects of the job. Each group has its own character, and I enjoy the ways they collectively create the experience. Four groups meet over Zoom, and one meets over a conference call. This particular group enjoys connecting over the phone. They were the first group we ever organized, and it has our largest participation. Though a conference call may seem behind the times for this era, they enjoy it like this, and they make it a deep and meaningful opportunity for connection. In fact, this group calls itself a chosen family, and its members show up in each others lives in beautiful ways, including rhythms of calling each other throughout the week.

All of this is lovely. And as I shared, full of character: There’s a fun, silly practice that this group does week to week, and I’ve been pondering this sweet, simple act of care. When people are signing into the conference call, I can see who is about to join on a computer screen. Their name emerges on the screen about five seconds before we hear the beep announcing their arrival. In that time, I’ll tell the people already on the line, “Here comes [Name].”

And we wait in silence.

BEEP.

“Hi, [Name]!” says everyone in unison and with gusto.

We call it surprise-partying.

Depending on when they emerge, [Name] gets somewhere between 5-15 people greeting them playfully and enthusiastically.

And this is a small thing, but in this era in which we live, it can feel so lovely to be greeted with joy in a way that genuinely conveys, “Everyone is glad that you are here.”

Each group has character, and I love this one.

–Renee Roederer

Sometimes, people name difficulties that you desperately wish you could take away, but you don’t know how. You listen, and then they say how much that means. Presence is enough.

Sometimes, people are grieving, and they are exhausted by all the cliches they’ve needed to dodge. You take a walk together or just sit in silence. Presence is enough.

Sometimes, a young person is lonely and feeling overwhelmed. You watch a tv show together or text back and forth. Presence is enough.

Sometimes, people bring a difficult, personal challenge to a Zoom screen among others who care. They discover they’re not alone — in that problem, and in being loved as they are. Presence is enough.

Sometimes, people are feeling isolated and disconnected. Their friends give them an old fashioned phone call. Presence is enough.

Sometimes, you’re feeling sad, anxious, or weighed down, and you tell trusted people what you need. Presence is enough.

–Renee Roederer

With several groups, I’ve had the occasion to ask this fun question lately:

If you can imagine yourself in parallel universes, what are some of the things you’re doing?

As you think back on paths you could have taken, but didn’t ultimately, how might those have shaped your life? What are you doing in those parallel universes? And as you ponder those, what are some life pathways you almost took in this universe? And what are some that you never tried, but you can imagine yourself doing?

As for the two I could have actually taken, there is a parallel universe where I finished a music composition degree in college, and I’m now teaching music theory at a university. That’s what I originally wanted to do vocationally. I changed my mind. There’s also a parallel universe where I’m teaching theology at a seminary. When I went to seminary myself, from the start to the finish, that’s what I most wanted to do. My path changed when I was invited into a local campus ministry position. That changed my life in meaningful ways, and among other things I do, I’ve worked alongside young adults ever since.

And as for the path I never tried but I can still imagine, there’s probably a parallel universe where I’m a choral conductor. I did a lot of choral music in undergrad, and to this day, I wish I would have studied the skill of choral conducting. I never did it, but I think I would enjoy it.

So here’s what I want to know: What about you? What are yours?

Feel free to share in a comment.

–Renee Roederer