I read bunches of stuff on the internet, some of it informative, some of it entertaining, some of it so-so, some of it brilliant. Lately I’ve come across a couple things worth sharing.
First up, Glennon. Do you know her? I didn’t until last week and then I promptly fell in love with her. It’s her writing, her honesty, her humor—I stayed up late one night just soaking it all in.
It was through Glennon that I got introduced to The Bloggess. (This is the second point.) I’ve known about the bloggess for ages, but I never really read her. I still may not read her regularly, but you have got to, simply MUST, read her chicken story. I SO need to get myself a chicken made out of metal drums.
That I can enjoy both down-and-dirty bloggers like the bloggess (she’s a little crass) and intentional, steady, the-earth-is-our-mother bloggers like SouleMama intrigues me. I respect the latter very much, especially the respectful sweetness with which she depicts their marriage. But me and my husband are much more like the former, all angst and metal chickens. So I read both blogs, ponder and snort, and then go about my life (while keeping one eye peeled for a large metal chicken to haul into battle with me).
(That wasn’t really a point.)
The third thing I’ve found is this little gem of a post by Swonderland. It’s about time and aging, and she says it all perfectly. I wish I wrote it.
Fourth and Fifth, Luisa made my roasted corn dish. It’s not really mine (I found it in Bon Appetit), but because I made it first I own it a little more than she does, I like to think. (Oh? That’s not how it works? Well, okay then . You win.) And upon my recommendation Sarah read Life of Pi and liked it and if you haven’t read it yet you should. (Also, she posted this quote by Carl Frederick Buechner, “They may forget what you said, but they will never forget how you made them feel.” I’m not sure if I should be relieved or worried.)
Sixth, this little video of Elizabeth Gilbert lecturing on genius and creativity is a good one. If you have an artistic side (and most people do, I think), you’ll welcome the twenty minutes of enlightenment.
Seventh, a quote from Misha Leigh’s blog.
I have a friend who talks about how we live our life in teaspoonfuls instead of big drinks. We often are so thirsty for the big gulps, she says, that we miss the perfect teaspoons of joy right there in front of us.
She said to me that she thinks this is the way love works, too. We wish it would work instant miracles and create dramatic change – but instead love tends to chip away tiny bits of change at a time. And if we hang in there long enough, and celebrate the teaspoonfuls, eventually, sometimes, we do sometimes see some big redemptions.
I get impatient with all the little teaspoons that make up my day. I like big action, big talk, big taste, big happiness. Yet my life is made up of hundreds of these teaspoons of joy. Hundreds, people. And I have the gall to get impatient with them? I have so much to learn.
This same time, years previous: peach cornmeal cobbler and fresh peach ice cream, tomato and red wine sauce, vegetable beef soup, mustard eggs, and Russian pancakes
The quote from Misha Leigh reminded me of an extremely thought-provoking book I read recently that makes the same point (among others): One Thousand Gifts, by Ann Voskamp. To quote you, "I wish I wrote it" and "I have so much to learn."
I a cracking up at this chicken story…
Exactly what you said – I have been thinking about impatience all day (specifically my own) and wondering if so much of the pain that I do feel about hard things really boils down to just impatience with slow change. When really? It's all a gift!
So: what you said. Better than I did.