Three snippets of poetry and prose have been circling in my mind lately. All three are about the work of being a good human, and how it can at times be tragic, difficult, and painful. And all three are about the persistent hope therein.
May they stir in you as they do in me.
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At the core of our animal beings, something is bleeding. If we stop and pay attention, we can feel the wound. In the wound lies the hope.
-Paul Kingsnorth, "The Axis and the Sycamore," Orion Magazine (full essay here)
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Here is the world.
Beautiful and terrible things will happen.
Don't be afraid.
-Frederick Buechner
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The Real Work
by Wendell Berry
It may be that when we no longer know what to do
we have come to our real work
and that when we know longer know which way to go
we have come to our real journey.
The mind that is not baffled is not employed.
The impeded stream is the one that sings.
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