Wow. So good. Thank you for sharing, especially your moments of feeling unseen caring for yourself and your sick daughter. I feel less alone with all my moments of unpaid and unseen care work 🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡
You're writing is always such a grounding force, full of important reminders, and brings me back to my center. Thank you, as always, for sharing. I love so much about what you wrote today, but especially the bit about how often doing "nothing" is us doing the most important thing. Holding so much of your words in my heart today. Joy over despair is going to be written on a note and tacked on the wall. A mantra for the future.
As I read your commitment to choose joy over despair I thought of this line from Wendell Berry's poem Manifesto: Mad Farmer Liberation Front "though you have considered all the facts, be joyful."
We do indeed need to "consider all the facts." We do indeed need to live in reality. We do not need to pretend that evil is not afoot. But we can choose hope, a hope that nurtures joy.
"When you look out at the world and see a swell of grief, know your body is seeing clearly. When you look out at the world and feel a surge of awe in your heart, know your body is seeing clearly. It is possible to hold both. It is human to hold both."
As a hospice chaplain, I frequently reminded patients and families that they could hold both intense grief and hope simultaneously. We humans have such a tendency to feel like we have to choose only one. You are so wise to encourage us to "hold both."
The part that really resonated with me was your exploration of choosing joy over despair. I've often found myself caught in that same struggle, especially lately with the state of the world. It's so easy to get pulled into the undertow of negativity. Your words reminded me that joy isn't about ignoring the darkness, but about actively choosing to seek out the light, even - and perhaps especially - when it feels hardest to find. It's a daily practice, a conscious choice to focus on the good, the beautiful, the hopeful. Thank you for the gentle reminder that even amidst the chaos, there's always room for joy.
I haven't commented in a while, though I have read all your writings. I'm just so exhausted with the effort to stay out of the depths of despair. With the latest on the Seashore (and the horrific way that all happened) I have been, for a few days, sunk in, even lower.
I am holding my breath and wishing the next 4 years could vanish in a moment's time.
Thank you so much for today's writing. Your Mantra is welcomed.
Never forget what a gift you are, here, and to your little. Wishing you both good health. Hugs.
Feeling and taking in your words --thank you for sharing, and for your kindness. Wishing you health and presence and all you may need to traverse these times. 💛
Thanks Lisa for this. Sometimes we think and feel that nothing goes right day after day, but we got to think about what we have and be grateful for it. That alone gives us hope cause we can make what we have even better for ourselves vs the world..
"When you look out at the world and see a swell of grief, know your body is seeing clearly. When you look out at the world and feel a surge of awe in your heart, know your body is seeing clearly. It is possible to hold both. It is human to hold both." Beautifully expressed! May we know and experience our capacity to hold both. Yesterday, as I walked through Confluence Park in my hometown, I experienced just this. The bomb cyclone that struck the Puget Sound region in Washington state in November decimated the Conifers, Cottonwoods and Willows. In the place of those beautiful trees are matted root-balls, splintered trunks, and barren stumps -- like a battlefield. Even still, the sun shown in a pale blue sky and the robins sang. There is space for it all.
😭😭😭 so so good. Thank you for sharing that passage from Francis Weller. Being in the darkness. Knowing that it is necessary. Trying to be okay with the unknown. Being okay with the feeling of fear it brings, because fear doesn't necessarily mean bad, that I just need to keep orienting to my surroundings, to be curious.
"I choose joy over despair." vs "...my willingness to feel despair and then let it move me toward who and how I want to be in this world does." Feels and lands very different for me, I'm curious how it lands for you. I have strong feelings about the word/s choice/choose... I kind of hate it, it brings too much simplicity to things that are far too complex for a simple black and white thought or action of choice. I don't think we choose to look at despair over joy, rather we learn to feel the despair and let it guide us toward what we value. I think those of us who feel deeply are plagued with needing to learn this lesson, because if we don't it will drown us. But on the days that I have the capacity, I feel beyond grateful that I am one of these deep feeling humans. On the days I have the capacity to feel grateful, it has never felt like a voluntary choice. On the days when I'm deep in it, and my thoughts go to such a dark place, I don't think it is necessarily something I'm choosing to do. I don't know what I'm really trying to say... I guess, it (life) just has always felt far more complex than choice or choosing. "I choose joy over despair" feels like a lot of pressure, it feels like falling into the trap of control. "my willingness to feel despair and then let it move me toward who and how I want to be in this world does." Feels like fluidity and flexibility.
This all kind of sounds preachy maybe. But I'm not meaning for it to be. Just sharing my reflection and what your writing provoked in me. =) Thank you so much for sharing your soul with us.
It's definitely different for each of us — and while I can't speak for Kimmerer, I know her indigenous wisdom is able to hold binaries and complexity much more than most. I personally find it comforting to remember I get to choose how I respond to doom/chaos/fear; that hopelessness doesn't need to be a landing place but can instead be somewhere I visit and then move out of, again and again; that hope is a practice (Mariam Kaba’s words) instead of something I need to expect myself to feel all the time. Certainly, we each have our own approaches and needs and capacities, and I only speak to mine here 💛 sending much love.
I appreciate what you wrote here, Allie. I agree that it is not simple and I too don't always know what to do with the word, "choice". It feels like taking responsibility and I like it for the agency it evokes and emphasizes. At the same time, as someone who has felt deep despair and struggled with depression over the years, it can feel like self-blame and judgement if I don't "choose" joy and it only deepens the darkness. Sometimes I believe I can choose and other times it seems there are forces beyond my control that lead me into despair, despite what I might want.
I really loved the combination of media, the song that listened as I read, the beautiful photography and potent writing all came together as an art. I've subscribed and look forward to reading more of your work :)
“Safe to soften”….. this is what I will be carrying into this week 💛
Me, too 💛
Wow. So good. Thank you for sharing, especially your moments of feeling unseen caring for yourself and your sick daughter. I feel less alone with all my moments of unpaid and unseen care work 🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡
You're not alone-- some of the most tender work there is 💛
You're writing is always such a grounding force, full of important reminders, and brings me back to my center. Thank you, as always, for sharing. I love so much about what you wrote today, but especially the bit about how often doing "nothing" is us doing the most important thing. Holding so much of your words in my heart today. Joy over despair is going to be written on a note and tacked on the wall. A mantra for the future.
So grateful for your reflection here -- a mantra for me, too, in these uncertain times. So glad this connected with you, and thank you for saying so 💛
As I read your commitment to choose joy over despair I thought of this line from Wendell Berry's poem Manifesto: Mad Farmer Liberation Front "though you have considered all the facts, be joyful."
We do indeed need to "consider all the facts." We do indeed need to live in reality. We do not need to pretend that evil is not afoot. But we can choose hope, a hope that nurtures joy.
Also, this quote from Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. "We must accept finite disappointment, but never lose infinite hope.”
"When you look out at the world and see a swell of grief, know your body is seeing clearly. When you look out at the world and feel a surge of awe in your heart, know your body is seeing clearly. It is possible to hold both. It is human to hold both."
As a hospice chaplain, I frequently reminded patients and families that they could hold both intense grief and hope simultaneously. We humans have such a tendency to feel like we have to choose only one. You are so wise to encourage us to "hold both."
A big yes to this! Thank you for sharing.
The part that really resonated with me was your exploration of choosing joy over despair. I've often found myself caught in that same struggle, especially lately with the state of the world. It's so easy to get pulled into the undertow of negativity. Your words reminded me that joy isn't about ignoring the darkness, but about actively choosing to seek out the light, even - and perhaps especially - when it feels hardest to find. It's a daily practice, a conscious choice to focus on the good, the beautiful, the hopeful. Thank you for the gentle reminder that even amidst the chaos, there's always room for joy.
This is beautiful -- thank you for sharing 💛
Thank you for this warmth of hope and truth. And the reminder to hold both. I’m currently reading Braiding sweetgrass, such a beautiful book ❤️
It is one I revisit again and again -- so much wisdom and nourishment held in those pages 💛
Hope you and your family are well again soon. ❤️🌞
Thank you 🧡
Thank-you for introducing me to Francis Weller and Bell Hook. These folks are new to me and I can tell I'll enjoy their work. :)
Both are favorites 🕯️
So lovely and comforting. 💜
💛
Dear Sweet of heart Lisa,
I haven't commented in a while, though I have read all your writings. I'm just so exhausted with the effort to stay out of the depths of despair. With the latest on the Seashore (and the horrific way that all happened) I have been, for a few days, sunk in, even lower.
I am holding my breath and wishing the next 4 years could vanish in a moment's time.
Thank you so much for today's writing. Your Mantra is welcomed.
Never forget what a gift you are, here, and to your little. Wishing you both good health. Hugs.
Feeling and taking in your words --thank you for sharing, and for your kindness. Wishing you health and presence and all you may need to traverse these times. 💛
Thanks Lisa for this. Sometimes we think and feel that nothing goes right day after day, but we got to think about what we have and be grateful for it. That alone gives us hope cause we can make what we have even better for ourselves vs the world..
💛
The timing of this piece couldn’t be more perfect. Thank you for your magic ✨
So glad it reached you 💛
"When you look out at the world and see a swell of grief, know your body is seeing clearly. When you look out at the world and feel a surge of awe in your heart, know your body is seeing clearly. It is possible to hold both. It is human to hold both." Beautifully expressed! May we know and experience our capacity to hold both. Yesterday, as I walked through Confluence Park in my hometown, I experienced just this. The bomb cyclone that struck the Puget Sound region in Washington state in November decimated the Conifers, Cottonwoods and Willows. In the place of those beautiful trees are matted root-balls, splintered trunks, and barren stumps -- like a battlefield. Even still, the sun shown in a pale blue sky and the robins sang. There is space for it all.
There is space for it all. So beautiful, thanks for sharing 🙏🏻🕯️
😭😭😭 so so good. Thank you for sharing that passage from Francis Weller. Being in the darkness. Knowing that it is necessary. Trying to be okay with the unknown. Being okay with the feeling of fear it brings, because fear doesn't necessarily mean bad, that I just need to keep orienting to my surroundings, to be curious.
"I choose joy over despair." vs "...my willingness to feel despair and then let it move me toward who and how I want to be in this world does." Feels and lands very different for me, I'm curious how it lands for you. I have strong feelings about the word/s choice/choose... I kind of hate it, it brings too much simplicity to things that are far too complex for a simple black and white thought or action of choice. I don't think we choose to look at despair over joy, rather we learn to feel the despair and let it guide us toward what we value. I think those of us who feel deeply are plagued with needing to learn this lesson, because if we don't it will drown us. But on the days that I have the capacity, I feel beyond grateful that I am one of these deep feeling humans. On the days I have the capacity to feel grateful, it has never felt like a voluntary choice. On the days when I'm deep in it, and my thoughts go to such a dark place, I don't think it is necessarily something I'm choosing to do. I don't know what I'm really trying to say... I guess, it (life) just has always felt far more complex than choice or choosing. "I choose joy over despair" feels like a lot of pressure, it feels like falling into the trap of control. "my willingness to feel despair and then let it move me toward who and how I want to be in this world does." Feels like fluidity and flexibility.
This all kind of sounds preachy maybe. But I'm not meaning for it to be. Just sharing my reflection and what your writing provoked in me. =) Thank you so much for sharing your soul with us.
It's definitely different for each of us — and while I can't speak for Kimmerer, I know her indigenous wisdom is able to hold binaries and complexity much more than most. I personally find it comforting to remember I get to choose how I respond to doom/chaos/fear; that hopelessness doesn't need to be a landing place but can instead be somewhere I visit and then move out of, again and again; that hope is a practice (Mariam Kaba’s words) instead of something I need to expect myself to feel all the time. Certainly, we each have our own approaches and needs and capacities, and I only speak to mine here 💛 sending much love.
I appreciate what you wrote here, Allie. I agree that it is not simple and I too don't always know what to do with the word, "choice". It feels like taking responsibility and I like it for the agency it evokes and emphasizes. At the same time, as someone who has felt deep despair and struggled with depression over the years, it can feel like self-blame and judgement if I don't "choose" joy and it only deepens the darkness. Sometimes I believe I can choose and other times it seems there are forces beyond my control that lead me into despair, despite what I might want.
I really loved the combination of media, the song that listened as I read, the beautiful photography and potent writing all came together as an art. I've subscribed and look forward to reading more of your work :)
Thank you for reading 💛
Eternally grateful for you and your words, Lisa. They are always a deep balm. Thank you so much.
I feel the same about your words, Lindsay; thank you 💛