Smuggling Grace

— 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.

… that daffodils are the most Mahna Mahna of flowers?

I recently got to watch a very cute baby animal enjoy life for a while. This little being was indeed, very baby, and indeed, very cute.

I noticed that just like a toddler, this baby would hide near Mom (sometimes, under Mom). Then he would explore for a while, only to return and check in. This happened consistently.

Explore, return, feel safe,
Explore, return, feel safe.

There’s a developmental term for when humans do this. When babies or toddlers try new things, then look at caregivers for assurance that an action is safe, this is called social referencing. And though it happens in a particular way at a developmental stage of life, I’m not sure we ever lose this entirely. We also like to try new things, return, and take refuge in one another. Throughout our lives, we love to feel ourselves seen and known in the loving care and gaze of one another.

Which people, communities, and homes provide this for you?

—Renee Roederer

These slides come from Dr. Nicole LePera, known on social media as The Holistic Psychologist (@the.holistic.psychologist).

— Photos by Renee Roederer

On Tuesday, a large cargo ship lost power and hit the Francis Scott Key Bridge in Baltimore, Maryland, causing it to crumble into the Patapsco River. Six construction workers died. Each of those construction workers had names and were loved, and when this happened, their loved ones had their world upended.

It is devastating.

On Tuesday, food aid from the U.S. government fell through the air via parachutes, causing it to land in the Mediterranean Sea rather than the shoreline. Twelve famished Palestinians drowned as they swam after the food. Each of those Palestinians had names and were loved, and when this happened, their loved ones had their world upended.

It is devastating.

Because of proximity, we may have heard more about the first story.
Proximity of location,
Proximity of position,
Proximity of experience, and more.

We can imagine being a person on a bridge. We might not be able to imagine being a famished person, starving, and swimming for food.

We might recall the horrific news in Baltimore as that terrible thing that happened last Tuesday, knowing it was so out of the ordinary, scary, and traumatic. It truly is, and it deserves our attention.

And

With so much death, destruction, and dehumanization in Palestine, we might see a headline about drownings in the pursuit of aid, and think consciously or unconsciously, “just another Tuesday.” None of us wants to be people who would shrug off the second story, and we shouldn’t. But we are in danger of normalizing this kind of violence. We have to challenge this in ourselves and in others.

We must make these stories a part of our proximity too. It’s not that people need to be close to us to have value, and certainly, people don’t need to be like us to have value. People have intrinsic value. But we lose contact with our shared humanity when we normalize starvation and massive amounts of casualties.

We also do have proximity. I write this as a U.S. citizen, and my government is not only dropping food over the sea; my government has sent massive amount of weapons to create the very conditions that are forcing people to swim dangerously to obtain that food. I am complicit in this. I am close to this.

Today, I lift up these two stories, not to place them in competition (both deserve our attention and care) but to say that human lives are worth mourning. And certainly, human lives are worth protecting.

—Renee Roederer