This is about a woman named Barbara who makes an absurdly great rhubarb cake. Then, when the popularity of this rhubarb cake takes off, she opens a bar to sell her cake. Unfortunately some Barbarians come, and they need some barbering to cut their beards. But hey, they can still eat that glorious rhubarb cake! Enjoy.
Under Ideal Conditions by Al Zolynas
say in the flattest part of North Dakota
on a starless moonless night
no breath of wind
a man could light a candle
then walk away
every now and then
he could turn and see
the candle burning
seventeen miles later
provided conditions remained ideal
he could still see the flame
somewhere between the seventeenth and eighteenth mile
he would lose the light
if he were walking backwards
he would know the exact moment
when he lost the flame
he could step forward and find it again
back and forth
dark to light light to dark
what’s the place where the light disappears?
where the light reappears?
don’t tell me about photons
and eyeballs
reflection and refraction
don’t tell me about one hundred and eighty-six thousand
miles per second and the theory of relativity
all I know is that place
where the light appears and disappears
that’s the place where we live
— Al Zolynas
Are there particular words, phrases, or images that stand out most to you?
An Ode to Ripley
This is Ripley. She’s my best friend’s dog.
Ripley loves me. She would love you. Ripley loves all people, especially her own humans, and all day long, she is enamored with them.
I asked my best friend, “What percentage of the day do you think Ripley’s tail is wagging?”
“Oh, 99.9%,” she answered. We asked the same question to her partner. “If she’s standing on all fours, 95% of the time. If she’s lying down, just a little less.” So definitely in the upper 90s. Ripley’s just always looking, often ready to cuddle, and… sometimes she gets so excited, she just can’t stand it. Ripley has been learning boundaries over the years. She can barely contain her eagerness, but she’s gotten so much better at it. The main thing is, the affection shines through, no matter what.
We would do well to learn from Ripley. We could let our affection show.
(Boundaries intact, of course).
Like…
— Last weekend, my Mom, Stepdad, and I danced to swing music in the kitchen.
— Recently, I was standing in a line with a friend, and simultaneously, as if the energy just pulled us together, we each leaned in at once and co-cuddled. Neither one knew the other one was about to do so. We just met together that way.
— “I LOVE YOU RENEE,” a beloved young adult texted me joyfully.
Ripley is a good example, and she makes me want this all the more. I think I could be looking, paying attention, too. I think I could be enamored. I think I could be so eager, like I can barely stand it. Because people are pretty great.
— Renee Roederer
Samesie Sadie
I had a sad day.
There are no eventful or tragic happenings underway in my own life, but I’m finding myself aware of a number of deeply painful things happening in the lives of loved ones, plus deep losses and upheaval in our world. Sometimes, that sadness will get under your skin. I felt that throughout the day.
Feeling all of this, in the late afternoon on a warm day, I got on my bike, which tends to be one of my happiest undertakings. I love to feel free, zooming around town. I thought this might help me.
I was just a couple of blocks into my ride when an elder wheeled over to me. “We’re twins!” she said. Sure enough, we had the exact same bike in the exact same color. I asked her her name.
“Sadie,” she answered. (Not her real name) We smiled with each other and then we smiled again for a photo.
The light turned green, and we both took off. I was a bit ahead, but I noticed something. After I would pass people walking on the bike path, in the distance, I would sometimes hear a little, “Ding!” I knew that was Sadie just a bit behind me, passing the people as well. On a sad day, it was comforting to feel like someone was with me, taking a ride, feeling whatever we feel, noticing whatever we notice, and hoping to feel free on our bikes.
Thanks, Samesie Sadie. You made my heavy day lighter.
— Renee Roederer
The Difference a Day Can Make
Mental Health Monday: What Is Post-Traumatic Growth?
Today, I’d like to introduce us to some resources about a beautiful, strength-filled phenomenon called Post-Traumatic Growth.
Sometimes, people who experience the upheaval of trauma are able to remake their lives and live them more deeply, often with a greater sense of love and meaning than they might have had before. This is in no way to suggest that the trauma is somehow a good thing or a blessing in disguise. Certainly not. But Post-Traumatic Growth can happen alongside the pain of traumatic experiences.
Richard Tedeschi and Lawrence Calhoun, two psychologists and researchers, did a great deal of studies surrounding Post-Traumatic Growth, and they have identified five common themes in people who have experienced Post-Traumatic Growth. These include,
- Changes in how they relate to other people
- Recognition of new opportunities, priorities or pathways in life
- Greater appreciation for the value of one’s own life, and life in general
- Recognition of one’s own strength
- Spiritual or existential development
In light of these, here’s a video about Post-Traumatic Growth from Dr. Nicole LePera, also known as The Holistic Psychologist on social media:
In addition to sharing these, I’d like to close with a poem from Alice Walker. I wonder, does any part or resources of today’s blog resonate with you?
Hope to Sin Only in the Service of Waking Up
by Alice Walker
Hope never to believe it is your duty or right to harm another simply because you mistakenly believe they are not you.
Hope to understand suffering as the hard assignment even in school you wished to avoid. But could not.
Hope to be imperfect in all the ways that keep you growing.
Hope never to see another not even a blade of grass that is beyond your joy.
Hope not to be a snob the very day Love shows up in love’s work clothes.
Hope to see your own skin in the wood grains of your house.
Hope to talk to trees & at last tell them everything you’ve always thought.
Hope at the end to enter the Unknown knowing yourself. Forgetting yourself also.
Hope to be consumed to disappear into your own Love.
Hope to know where you are –Paradise–if nobody else does.
Hope that every failure is an arrow pointing toward enlightenment.
Hope to sin only in the service of waking up.
This Week in Nature
Neato Curiosities: Antibiotics, Staph, and… Vikings?
Okay, okay. I just don’t know what to title this one.
But here’s a really good story about how antibiotics were developed, how staph has fought back with resistance, but how somehow, a Nordic medicine man from 1100 years ago created a concoction that seems to work consistently.
Enjoy this podcast as reported by Latif Nasser:
Radiolab — Staph Retreat
A Voice Through the Door by Rumi
I recently found this poem hanging on a wall. I thought I’d share it today. May it speak to us in whatever way it needs to speak.
A Voice Through the Door
By Rumi
Sometimes you hear a voice through the door
calling you, as fish out of water
hear the waves, or a hunting falcon
hears the drum’s Come back. Come back.
This turning toward what you deeply love
saves you. Read the book of your life,
which has been given you.
A voice comes to your soul saying,
Lift your foot. Cross over.
Move into emptiness
of question and answer and question.
Smuggling Grace 