Smuggling Grace

Mysteries, Yes
By Mary Oliver

Truly, we live with mysteries too marvelous
to be understood.
How grass can be nourishing in the
mouths of the lambs.

How rivers and stones are forever
in allegiance with gravity
while we ourselves dream of rising.

How two hands touch and the bonds will
never be broken.

How people come, from delight or the
scars of damage,
to the comfort of a poem.

Let me keep my distance, always, from those
who think they have the answers.

Let me keep company always with those who say
“Look!” and laugh in astonishment,
and bow their heads.

Which phrase, line, or couplet speaks most to you?

When I woke up yesterday, we only had one degree. One, little degree outside. So cold!

We’ve also had snow and ice. It was shockingly mild from November to mid-January (equal parts disturbing and comfy) but winter is here in earnest, at least this week.

During one of the support groups I lead, people shared these lovely stories about what it was like to have good neighbors during snowstorms. It made me grateful for my neighbors as well. One person loves to use a snow blower to clear sidewalks and driveways. (So kind!) Another likes to make us hot toddies. (I’ll take them!) We know we can count on each other.

I’ve also lived in some places where I didn’t even know neighbors’ names. This is the kind of thing that has to be cultivated, and it typically starts when one person receives from another. It makes a big difference. Plus, it’s fun to know neighbors.

We can make this effort any time.

—Renee Roederer

I recently stayed at a friend’s apartment for a few days, and in so many directions where I looked, there were sweet, little messages and reminders of what matters. I look in the mirror, and see a little sign that says, “You’re beautiful!” I turn a corner and see, “You’re terrific!” I go to wash my hands and am reminded of how precious and capable they are: “Please wash your precious, capable hands.”

There were words of poetry, quotes, and reminders to uphold and honor the lives of people who are most frequently marginalized in our country.

Reminders everywhere.

What reminders do you need? If you need to, write them down and display them. At the very least, tell yourself often. And tell yourself beautifully.

—Renee Roederer

Thanks to the Nasa Juno Probe, we have the closest images we’ve ever taken of Jupiter:

Thanks to the James Webb Space Telescope, we have images like this one below. From just a tiny sliver of observed space, we can see that every one of these dots is a galaxy… each with roughly 100 billion stars, and… each star has at least one planet. How could we possibly be alone?

It causes us to wonder. I like what astronomer Dr. Caitlin Casey says,

“If you look back to the Big Bang, the dark ages, the cosmic dawn, the creation of stars, galaxies, planets – we are a consequence of this. We can’t see ourselves as being apart from this. We are of this. Humans, trying to understand the universe, are really the universe trying to understand itself.” — Dr. Caitlin Casey, Vox’s Unexplainable Podcast

— Photos by Renee Roederer

In the 90s, there was a brilliant scientific experiment that started out so hopefully, and ended… so badly. Eight people entered a completely sealed-off-to-the-world dome to create a biosphere of their own making. They stayed inside for two years.

Would you like to learn about this endeavor, along with its successes and wild failures?

Listen to the live Stuff You Should Know podcast on Biosphere II.

I’d like to share a gorgeous poem by John O’Donahue. I love so many lines, but my favorite is this phrase: “waves of desire I am shore to”

I place on the altar of dawn:
The quiet loyalty of breath,
The tent of thought where I shelter,
Waves of desire I am shore to
And all beauty drawn to the eye.

May my mind come alive today
To the invisible geography
That invites me to new frontiers,
To break the dead shell of yesterdays,
To risk being disturbed and changed.

May I have the courage today
To live the life that I would love,
To postpone my dream no longer
But do at last what I came here for
And waste my heart on fear no more.

~ John O’Donohue
excerpt from A Morning Offering,
To Bless The Space Between Us

Waves of desire I am shore to… What does that mean to you? And what are you receiving?

If you’re a subscriber here, you know that I always share nature photography on Sundays. I have an even more frequent rhythm on social media. Nature photography has become one of my biggest hobbies, and I take photos and share them to social media daily. “Today in Nature,” I call it. This has become a meaningful practice in my life.

From time to time, I’ll be in a community setting somewhere, and someone will say, “How do you do this every single day? How do you have the time?” I think people imagine that I’m hitting the trails and parks every single day.

In the summer, I am a little like that, I’ll admit. But in the colder part of Fall and Winter, and sometimes in the spring and summer too, let me just share that a lot of these photos are what I’ll call, “parking lot shots.”

That’s often the case, literally. I’m at, say, Target, and I find a really beautiful, tiny piece of nature to capture. Or I’m walking from my car to the building where I work, and I notice something. Or I’ve come home, and I see something pretty in my driveway.

You don’t have to hit the trails and the parks to find beauty, and I think if we look for it intentionally, we develop an eye for it. We can find it almost anywhere.

—Renee Roederer