Sunday, July 31, 2016
Saturday, July 30, 2016
Friday, July 29, 2016
Thursday, July 28, 2016
Wednesday, July 27, 2016
The call came from Richard Rohr's Center for Action and Contemplation: they were looking for someone to catalog his works -- to write abstracts, create tweets, and confirm sources for his quotes -- and they wanted a writer with a background in library science and an interest in/understanding of Rohr's theology: a perfect description of me. Twenty hours a week -- I could easily manage that -- and work from home; again, perfect.
So I sent in my application, and they liked it enough to put me through a 24 hour performance test: they gave me meditations, homilies and quotes and asked me to produce abstracts, tweets, and sources, which I did. It was fun -- I read a lot of Rohr, so it was a delight to find new pieces and summarize them, and it was a hoot searching for the root source of the quotations. I felt certain I'd done a good job.
But as I did the work, I wondered: is this how I would want to spend 20 hours of my time every week? I wasn't sure, to be honest, but decided to trust that whatever choice they made would be the right one both for them and for me. And when notice came yesterday that, though my work had been excellent and my credentials impressive, they had chosen someone with more cataloging experience, there was a sense of relief. Oh, I thought, now I won't have to carve out time in my schedule for this; I won't risk having to give up the things I'm involved in now. And if cataloging experience was that important, I might not have enjoyed the job as much as it looked like I would.
And so I let it go, feeling certain that the right choice had been made. But just because we think we're letting something go, that doesn't necessarily compute with our bodies. What the head knows and what the heart wants are often different things, and so I went through the rest of my day noticing that though I really was comfortable with the decision, I was also sad. So I was kind to myself, gave myself an extra scoop of ice cream for dessert, and spent the day finishing a novel rather than plowing through my usual to-do list... and tried to listen to the sadness.
And mostly, I think, the sadness was based in that constant low-level hunger we humans have for recognition, for identity, for association with the known. It would have been fun, and I would have been proud, to say "I'm working for Richard Rohr." Of course it would. But instead I will continue to carve out my own identity in the world; to focus on my writing, my painting, my acting, my service to the community -- and that feels like a call as well.
So it's all good. And all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.
Posted by Diane Walker at 8:45 AM
Tuesday, July 26, 2016
Monday, July 25, 2016
Sunday, July 24, 2016
Saturday, July 23, 2016
Friday, July 22, 2016
It feels like the ultimate test of faith:
to continue believing love will triumph over hate.
Please: do something unexpectedly kind today --
let love keep winning, in spite of all we see and hear.
(From a window display in San Francisco, several years ago.)
Posted by Diane Walker at 9:35 AM
Thursday, July 21, 2016
There are moments when events, or your surroundings,
seem to beckon: try this! Come over here! Look at me!
Don't be afraid to step out of your comfort zone:
listen, heed the call, explore: something new and exciting
may be waiting for you, just beyond those familiar borders...
Posted by Diane Walker at 7:22 AM
Wednesday, July 20, 2016
Tuesday, July 19, 2016
Monday, July 18, 2016
Sunday, July 17, 2016
Saturday, July 16, 2016
Take a minute today to breathe in love --
a love that delights in all your gifts,
your strengths and your good deeds;
a love that acknowledges, cradles and forgives
all your sad and broken parts and your mistakes.
Now. Breathe that love out again:
Breathe out delight and gratitude
for all the goodness in the world;
Breathe out acceptance, sympathy and forgiveness
for all the brokenness in the world.
And now, breathe again. And again. And again.
Keep breathing love.
Posted by Diane Walker at 8:49 AM
Friday, July 15, 2016
Thursday, July 14, 2016
Wednesday, July 13, 2016
So here's the deal: however you feel,
you're bound to stay afloat a good while longer.
So which is it you choose?
Will you just be a Geezer, anchored in the familiar
while you rust in place?
Or will you be a Phoenix, prepped and ready
to cast away the ashes of old dreams;
to lift your sails and venture forth to unfamiliar harbors?
Posted by Diane Walker at 7:58 AM
Tuesday, July 12, 2016
Monday, July 11, 2016
Sunday, July 10, 2016
Saturday, July 9, 2016
Friday, July 8, 2016
In these dark days,
when the shadows we've ignored so long
rise angry from their graves with guns ablaze,
it's no surprise we hunger so for beauty.
Perhaps it's not just hoping we could bury our heads
in flowers and it all would go away.
Perhaps it's just that we're desperate for reminders
that there's beauty in the world;
that after we find some way to cope with winter
there might still come a spring...
Posted by Diane Walker at 6:26 AM
Thursday, July 7, 2016
Wednesday, July 6, 2016
We wait for life to settle out,
seeking some stable ground on which to nest,
or put down roots and rest, contented,
and just when it seems we've found our niche,
we realize things are tipping once again,
that something is impelling us
out of our comfort zone and into some new life...
Tuesday, July 5, 2016
and keeps a closet full of unexpected habits.
Dressed as divorce or disease,
an accident, a dead-end job, or death,
she opens doors we never knew were closed,
inviting us to step
where we never thought to tread;
to discover hidden valleys
and new heights within the shadows
of our souls.
Perhaps today she'll masquerade
as a weak ankle, or sore back...
Monday, July 4, 2016
Sunday, July 3, 2016
Saturday, July 2, 2016
So many of us hunger for a home we've never known;
looking out across the great divide.
But that home's already ours,
and the sense of separation is a fence we built ourselves:
In trying to keep out those experiences we fear,
we've also closed ourselves off from love.
Posted by Diane Walker at 8:50 AM