My Mom called yesterday, and when I picked up the phone,
right after
“Hi, Mom,” “Hi, Renee,”
She added,
“I want to tell you a joke.”
Already, I laughed. I wasn’t expecting that. We had just talked two days ago when she asked me excellent questions about my recent travels, and we texted yesterday about a kayaking trip I took down my local river.
“What do you call an elephant that doesn’t matter?”
“Ooh, I know this… I used to have it on a t-shirt… Irrelephant!”
“Oh, shoot,” she said, because she wanted to introduce this to me. I reassured her that this was completely delightful. She thought I was talking about the joke. But I knew I was talking about the call.
Image Description: Small, white pieces of paper with text that reads, “Responsibility,” “Duty,” “Accountability,” “Liability,” and other words that are not fully in view. Public domain image.
Recently, two concepts resurfaced in my mind, ideas I hadn’t revisited in years. They originally came from a book* I read long ago, and I’ve always found them to be a useful way to think about responsibility.
When we talk about responsibility, it’s important to distinguish between being responsible for something and being responsible toward something.
We often find ourselves feeling responsible for things that aren’t really ours to carry. We take on other people’s emotions, believing it’s our job to “fix” them. If someone is in a bad mood, we assume it’s our fault. We end up taking responsibility for things beyond our control.
But the truth is, we’re not responsible for these external factors. What we are responsible for are our own actions and emotions. And naturally, we can respond to others’ needs with compassion and care.
When it comes to responding, it’s more helpful to think in terms of being responsible toward others. We have a duty to live out our values and strive to be our best selves, directing these efforts toward the needs of others and our communities. We won’t always succeed, but we can keep returning to these values.
There are countless issues in the world that require our attention and care. For these, collective action is often necessary. We’re responsible toward these issues—not because we caused them (though sometimes we may be collectively complicit)—but because living out our values in community means we need to act.
In some situations, I hope we can release ourselves from feeling responsible for things beyond our control. In others, I hope we can feel empowered to be responsible toward the world and those around us.
Lately, I’ve been reflecting on what it means to be present.
We’ve all experienced the mental load of juggling multiple needs —trying to stay on top of everything while feeling the weight of what’s coming next. It’s exhausting. For a long time, I believed multitasking was the way to stay ahead. But I’m beginning to see that it often pulls me away from being present.
So I’m shifting my approach. I’m working on being a tasker. One task at a time.
When I focus fully on what’s in front of me, I notice the mental clutter starts to fade. There’s a clarity that comes with giving my full attention to one thing, and it allows me to be truly present. Compartmentalizing isn’t about ignoring what’s next—it’s about not carrying it all at once. I’m learning that when I approach each task in its own time, I’m more engaged and less drained.
And sometimes, it’s important to be a non-tasker too—allowing myself to simply be, without the pressure of what’s next.
Bye, multitasking. Or at least, I hope to engage less of you. More tasking. And more non-tasking.
I found these hearts hanging on a tree while I was outside on a bike ride. I stopped to snap a photo. They say,
You Are Magnificent
Be
Magnificent for PURPOSE
“There’s a story here,” I thought. Someone wrote on these hearts with situations or needs in mind. Or they were created by a person who has been shaped by these words in particular ways.
And it was a decision to hang them outside for others to see while passing by.
Photograph of Australian Paralympic team member Bridie Kean at the 2012 Summer Paralympic Games in London
It’s okay to use the word disability. It’s a neutral word, not a negative word, to describe a common human experience.
And when it comes to culture and belonging in the larger disability community, I would suggest that it’s a great choice to use the word, including with pride. It doesn’t have to be avoided.
I heard NPR’s “Up First” podcast provide information about the Paralympic Games which had its Opening Ceremony yesterday, and I noticed that they never used the word disability once. They talked about certain experiences and conditions of disability (for instance, amputation and visual impairment) but I thought it was interesting that they never used the word itself. I don’t know how much of that was a deliberate choice, but the Paralympic Games seems like an apt context to use the word.
Whether this was intentional or not, I think it’s great for us to consider this again. We can say disability. It’s an okay word — and a good word for an important community.
I was watching Abbott Elementary on the in-flight screen during my flight from Germany to the U.S. We were nearly there when my program was interrupted for a commercial-of-sorts that I wasn’t expecting. My airline has a charitable giving program (I didn’t know this) and they were discussing the work they do with UNICEF to provide food, clean water, and education to children in places where those resources are more difficult to obtain.
The commercial shared that a flight attendant would soon be coming around the perimeter of the plane to accept donations of any size in any currency. The commercial shared what $1, $5, and $10 can provide. And then a flight attendant came down multiple aisles to collect cash in a plastic bag.
I’ve never seen an airline take an offering. I suppose we might more accurately call it a collection, but it felt like the genre of an offering. I imagine that the corporate reasons for doing this are likely self-serving, though I’m sure that airline employees who participate find meaning in it. I also assume with a trusted partner like UNICEF, they do provide in significant ways that make a tangible difference. I threw in some pocket change in dollars and euros.
I’ve never seen this happen anywhere but church services. Apart from the corporate context, which is not my favorite context for charitable giving, I found this intriguing. It made me wonder, what would happen if we had more regular rhythms for taking up spontaneous collections like this? What if this didn’t just happen in church? But just more freewill offerings out in the wild?
I didn’t see any fireworks yesterday, but I tried to create that final burst of energy we tend to see in a fireworks finale. On my last day in Munich and my last day of this trip, I decided I had the energy to go for it, so I walked a total of 26,372 steps around the city.
I saw the English Gardens, visited the Rathaus-Glockenspiel, went to the Deutches Museum, enjoyed a Munich beer at the Hofbrauhaus, perused a bookstore, and walked in so many directions. And it was a great conclusion.
Thank you for following along. I plan to keep reflecting and writing in my own contexts, and I look forward to that very much.
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Thank you for following along. Now I head home. Auf wiedersehen!
I am smiling in the rain, holding my umbrella over me.
It rained all virtually all day in Munich. It was a steady, stubborn rain too. It was light enough to make you think it wouldn’t be persistent, but consistent enough to make my shoes soggy (PS. I have learned I need new shoes).
That being said, on a chilly, rainy day, I still saw some lovely things. But after the cool air and my wet feet, I decided to take a nap. And it was a long nap.
At first, I felt a strange sense of guilt, as if I had not done enough with my day. But then I remembered, I had seen two Cathedrals, a castle — at a distance, but I saw it — and enjoyed a plate of delicious German food ordered auf Deutsch.
Sometimes, we need to move with the rhythm of the day. And it turns out my body needed that nap too.
And don’t we want more of this? Opportunities to move with the current of the day, rather than against it? So often, we do move against it. We hunker down. We push through. We ignore important interruptions. We neglect our body’s cues. Simply put, we don’t rest.
I don’t think we need to chuck all our rhythms and responsibilities, but maybe we need more flexibility within those. What if we gave ourselves a few more permissions to do that? Like, really?
Turns out, after that nap, the sun did come out in the evening, and I had renewed energy. I walked around some more and had some ice cream. So good. I stopped by a Munich fountain and remembered that the last time I was at a Munich fountain was 20 years ago. I bet 20-years-ago-me might not need a long nap (though she’s allowed too) but this-me is fine taking it.
Smuggling Grace 