When you genuinely help someone, you feel better about yourself.
Generosity of spirit actually pays pretty good dividends.
Not so many words, but much thought about this topic, of late.
PS For those of you who have been asking … Poor Camilla died yesterday. She went peacefully, with no distress. She had a whole extra month of life, out scratching in the dirt, eating worms, enjoying the spring sunshine. Our yard seems quiet without her friendly chicken face. She was such a funny bird – if I called her, she would race to me, as fast as her fat, poultry waddle would allow her to come. I will miss her.
I recently became acquainted with Call The Midwife, a PBS show set in 1947 based on the memoirs of Jennifer Worth, a young nurse and midwife in London's East End. The episodes are both intrguing and horrifying, as one gets to see life in that era – in all its simplicity and lack of advances. We are utterly fortunate to live in a time where medicine has progressed so far and technology affords us a quality of life that people then couldn't even begin to imagine.
Yet – and I don't think this is just the producers ficticious imaginings – there was a different timbre of relationships then. A commitment to service of humanity, loyalty to one another, a trust in both God and country. I wonder too if the constant losses of both life and fortune somehow grounded people. It seems those same deprivations also broke them. Maybe the past was not better or worse … perhaps it was both better and worse.
One thing is for certain – the series is so intriguing to me, because it is based in reality. This was someone's life. No one made this up – she actually lived it.
The paths we choose, whether more or less traveled; our choices make our lives. And our lives make that difference; at least we each desperately hope for as much. Perhaps 50 years from now, someone will be creating entertainment from our stories, imagining that we were remarkable.
They will be correct.
It is easy to be intentional, when you know where you're going. However, when you lose your destination, or even just general direction, then a viable "what next" becomes difficult.
I believe all people, even the most focused lose their way occasionally.
In mountaineering, if you become lost, you return to the last place that you were oriented in.
I have had a terrible cold and in addition, some transitions; these have contributed to my silence. Rather than just speak for words' sake, I have been waiting until I had an idea of even what might be spoken.
Here it is:
We all get lost. And when you are lost – when I am lost – the safest thing to do is hold steady until the direction becomes clear once more.
Recently, I realized that the vast majority of my friends and people I come in contact with are quite a bit more intelligent than I am. Yes, really.
I can look at this and feel inferior, or I can say: How fortunate am I, that I get to relate with people of such high caliber?
You guessed it, I am uber privileged.
I saw this picture today, and loved the both / and quality of it. Without much commentary, I am asking: what in my life is more than it appears to be on the surface?