Facebook lamenting...

Set from Jahreszeiten, design by Susanne Dolker

I have friends on Facebook who lament. I try to lament as little as possible, because the responses are just underwhelming. No one has anything really meaningful to say, because Facebook isn't an inherently meaningful thing. Real person-to-person interaction is best for coping, in my opinion. Even Skyping doesn't do it for me. There is still distance in the conversation.

So when people lament, I try to be as encouraging and empathetic as possible. People lament in public because they want to be heard. They want to be seen. They don't need to hear how "It will all be better someday" or "Silly you. Be positive! Nothing is as bad as you think it is." Those kinds of responses are meant to send encouragement, but I find that they make the lamenter even more angry, because the deep unspoken fear is realized on screen - no one understands.

This is a reminder to myself to be supportive to those who are looking for support, to avoid rubbing people's faces in their own pain.

See you later :)

Faith is a fact.

I have a friend in another country who goes to church every day after work, sits in a silent old church in some old European country, and contemplates God or something especially cool. It seemed extreme to me when I first heard it, but I understand so much more now. We need ritual in our lives, sameness, things that do not change. This ritualizing of behaviors creates solidity in our souls, plants us into the ground, makes us feel safe in our own skin. Weird and definitely spiritual, but true. Take it or leave it.

In the wake of school shootings and marathon bombings, I hear stories of people reaching out in new and different ways. Today, while driving the freeway in between meetings across town from one another, I wondered if people are looking for God somehow in this reaching-out, and I thought about lighting a candle. I have another friend who lights candles regularly, also an awesome person. I so appreciate that she has created some kind of place for that. I don't think I have the room. Maybe I could put a shelf up or something.

Who knew I'd become more Catholic as I got older. It's strange and wonderful, and I'm glad my faith allows me to change over time, to go in and out of faith phases, just as I move in and out of food phases. I am still going to the panaderia every morning, and tonight I realized after my evening walk down the boulevard, that I could not go the rest of the day without eating ice cream.

So yeah, phases are good. Or okay, at least. Also ritual is good. I don't know if they are connected. Whatever. I won't figure everything out before I die, but I might figure out some things. Hopefully bread/ice cream phase won't put me in the grave sooner over later.

Joseph Brodsky.

Grow accustomed to the desert as to fate/lest you find it omnipresent much too late.

~Joseph Brodsky 

Someone sent me these poems a few years back, and the second half of the audio has two of my favorite poems by Joseph Brodsky, a Russian poet. There is something so beautiful about the idea that there are other people who exist in the world who understand the depth of being (as much as it can be understood, of course) and who are able to put pen to paper and make something of it, or maybe they create meaning with the writing itself. I dunno. Anyhow, listen if you like. The reader has a beautiful voice and cadence.