BEHOLDER AND BEHELD

 

 

Scilla is having its moment, and as ever, it mesmerizes me like Ruth Wilcox’s skirt trailing among the flowers and grasses in “Howard’s End.” This photo does it no justice. Blossoms that were electric to my eye are overpowered here by stalks and leaves. Still, if I squint, there’s a hint of Van Gogh’s irises, so that’s something. It’s been raining a lot, and I’ve been reading Patricia DeYoung’s fine book on chronic shame, which she defines and explores in, I think, extraordinarily clear and detailed interpersonal terms. It’s a book written for clinicians, but full of observations that I wish could be wider spread. It’s an especially interesting read for me at this time of quarantine. While many of us are looking forward to being with others again—mingling and enjoying contact—for some, the self-other encounter is one of private chagrin. Healing from shame requires safety, and safety requires attention to connection and disconnection, a commitment to emotional being-with. Perhaps all our current contact through phone calls and screens could be seen as an opportunity to fine-tune our awareness of voices and faces. There’s so much information there—sometimes subtle, but sometimes as vivid as indigo and ultraviolet, hovering above the plainer stems of speech. The more attention we give, the more we perceive.

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Text and image copyrights held by me. Best wishes for your health and well-being. Feel free to share this post, if you’re so inclined.

DIGGING IN THE DIRT

I just wanted to share an interview I found affecting, a conversation between Terry Gross and Bryan Stevenson. Halfway through, there’s a story about digging. I’m so glad I happened to hear this, as part of my start to the year.

https://www.npr.org/programs/fresh-air/2020/01/20/797265594/fresh-air-for-jan-20-2020-just-mercy-attorney-bryan-stevenson?showDate=2020-01-20

 

 

 

 

 

THE TITLE OF THIS POST WAS ALMOST “LOVE SAVES LIVES”

…then I thought about those who suffer at the holidays for losses that abundant love didn’t prevent, and I changed my mind. Love doesn’t always save lives, and I think it’s important to be sensitive to that. Losses aren’t always deaths, either, though they can hurt as much and feel as absolute. Loss of partnership, friendship, regard, connection, career, independence—regret and futility, whatever the source, are quite ruthlessly painful. Nonetheless, love can save lives at times, and what better use of a heart? I was reminded of its redemptive quality when I read this piece.

Best wishes for 2020, with 20/20 vision, clarity, purpose, health, and l-o-v-e.

 

 

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I, for one, will be glad to see the end of 2019, despite the challenges that lie ahead. Text and image copyrights held by me. My posts have gotten shorter as I deal with other things. As ever, I’m grateful for your reading. If you enjoyed this piece, please consider sharing it with anyone you feel might like it, too. Bonne Annee, Tanti Auguri, Freues Neues.