Comments on: Another brick…

By: Tess

Tess — Mon, 27 Jul 2009 15:11:12 +0000

@kigen: thank you for sharing your story of that terrible day. There’s something very moving about the detail of giving up your places in the church so that others could pray.
@Cindy: yes, I struggle with this structure -v- freedom issue. Good luck with your book. I wonder what it is about deadlines that is so motivating for us.

By: Cindy L

Cindy L — Fri, 24 Jul 2009 12:26:13 +0000

Tess,
This post really hit home with me this morning. You mentioned taking time for “just being” but find that you need some structure for your days.

Me too. As a former (semi-retired) newspaper columnist, I feel a tad useless with so much free time and little direction. I still teach workshops and do some online writing … but with paying journalism opportunities dwindling in Detroit (and elsewhere), I decided to take a summer sabbatical to figure out what’s next for my writing career. I have begun notes for a book, I am surprised to find how MUCH I miss having weekly deadlines. I need more “purpose” to motivate me. With that in mind, I am looking for volunteer opportunities to supplement my free time.

By: kigen

kigen — Wed, 22 Jul 2009 20:08:45 +0000

Tess, I’ve thought about your mention of New York City and your trip to the Battery, and view of Statue of Liberty and especially your mention of 9/11. Your kindness in mentioning the connection to New York – Thank you. I once crossed the Hungerford Bridge on foot in your beautiful London! Since this post is still open for comments, just to say also, I was working downtown in New York on 9/11 and unfortunately witnessed the event live. Thousands upon thousands of us were in the streets watching the towers. There was a collective sigh of agony which you could hear ripple through the crowds, when the second building went down. I then grabbed my belongings from my office (I would not be allowed to return for weeks) and began half walking, half running uptown until I reached an Episcopal church which I had never been inside before, but where hundreds of people, exiting the area, had gathered to pray. There were so many people who wanted to pray, many of us left after not too long a time, so others could have our seats.

By: Tess

Tess — Wed, 15 Jul 2009 09:56:03 +0000

@Barbara, I like the way you put it: “a gentle set of chosen responsibilities”.
@Barney, you’re right, and I often have to remind myself of this. It’s like the old (but still true) feminist principle “the personal is political”.
@crayons, glad to encourage you to maybe try a different coloured brick in a couple of places!

By: crayons

crayons — Tue, 14 Jul 2009 23:56:27 +0000

Hi Tess,
Thank you for writing this succinct post on a very important topic. I believe, like you, that there is always a choice, even when the choice is not obvious. I like your question about the wall — and also the parable of the fish in the bathtub. My wall is neat and tight. It goes around every single aspect of my life: clothing, money, apartment, friends, future, divorced husband. It is some sort of comforting blanket that I pull up around myself. Thanks for challenging that practice.

By: Barney

Barney — Sat, 11 Jul 2009 08:09:25 +0000

Beautiful photos, Tess. So much beauty in things we so often don’t look at or absorb mindfully.

You are so right about the small choices. I may profess great principles, values, ideals, but if my moment-by-moment interactions with my wife, children, grandchildren, the guy who sells tickets at the station, the homeless person on Brompton Road aren’t – how to put this? – right, infused with loving-kindness, if I don’t see that of God in each and every person, all the great principles and values come to naught.

By: Barbara

Barbara — Sat, 11 Jul 2009 01:51:05 +0000

O Tess, how I empathize with your structureless living! It has bothered me since I retired about a year ago. Robert Frost wrote “Something there is that doesn’t love a wall” and I am inclined to believe him. Part of me rebels against the idea of a cloisonne-ed life. However, some translucent and flexible, but self-protective barrier would feel so useful and even comforting in organizing my days. One needs something against which to exert pressure or I fear we tend to puddle out. I think a gentle set of chosen responsibilities is that kind of something.

By: Tess

Tess — Thu, 09 Jul 2009 20:51:34 +0000

@Sue: I love your image of the egg shape. The meditation reminded me of a physical exercise we used to do in drama class at school, similar sort of thing – tree roots etc. I haven’t thought about that in decades!
@lucy: Bermuda is lucky to have you!
@kigen: What a beautiful description. I haven’t been to New York for about 16 years, but I think I know exactly the spot you mean. I gather the crown of Lady Liberty reopened a few days ago for the first time since the Twin Towers fell.
@claire: Oh yes, go with this one, what if you could turn into air or drop in the ocean, what would it take, what would it mean?

By: claire

claire — Thu, 09 Jul 2009 20:24:00 +0000

Really neat photo, Tess, heading your blog.
Yes, lives are built day-by-day with our decisions and choices. But what if they could also be ‘un-built’? What if I took my wall down stone by stone, brick by brick? What if I could turn into air or drop in the ocean?

By: kigen

kigen — Wed, 08 Jul 2009 18:25:50 +0000

Tess, wonderful wall question !!!
I took a taxi down to the tip of Manhattan this morning, where a park faces the Statue of Liberty, and I stood there for a while looking out at that great Lady across the Bay. And then I spent the next three hours walking home from there, mindlessly, just following the walled esplanade that follows the Hudson River, and which played the part of guide, route, and confessor, all in one. —