just this side of anger, and on the other side of sadness

Somewhere near San Luigi dei Francesi in Rome on one of the most recent happiest days of my life – I was traveling alone, so this is the only picture I have of myself from that day of wandering.

I am particularly grateful today for mentors and friends who speak so clearly into my life, just when I need it. If you saw me weeping yesterday, it was probably because I just received this:

Prayer for Jessina

Father, I pray for Your child, as if she were my child: but I dare to ask - that if I am actually addressing her - through You - that You are the One doing the talking. Or at least getting a Word in.

And so I ask this:
That You not set her faithfulness against her hopes.
That - in Your very gentle way - You are unsparing in Your claim - on her - 

on all the things You’ve given her; to attend to.
That’s a hard prayer. And You are not a hard master.
She knows - better than I - what those things are.
So may she find, in her circumstances, en famille, in the Circle of her loves - and Yours: 

may she find support: not that support that shuts down, that “pacifies," that places her at the bottom of a deep, dark pool: but the support that stirs up, like the salt spray, the tang and the splash of her deepest yearnings.

Those desires are there for a purpose: not just to anchor her: but to set her free.

It is has been a strange new season of life these past few months – I hate using the word 'season,' and always have, as it seems to indicate some sense of 'this is what was meant to be,' or waiting circumstances out rather than taking active steps or problem-solving – but I can't think of a more fitting word right now. I feel like I am coming into myself, that for so long I talked up a big game – told myself that I was strong and intelligent and beautiful, etc. – without actually believing it. 

I think we all do that in our own way, hoping that if we say it enough maybe we'll inch towards believing it. It seems like in any career you have to be able talk bigger about yourself in order to get anywhere. It is that sense of talking 'bigger,' but more than that, not only taking up space but feeling like it is your space, that you belong there – that is what I am trying to get at. 

That I belong here – I know it more now than I ever have before.

There is a new expression on your face: more determined, but not (yet?) hard. I pray you can stay there, just this side of anger, and on the other side of sadness: and right in the middle of strength: real strength.

for molly and summer

A long time ago, a friend and I were walking home at dusk along College Avenue in Berkeley and she asked me what I thought were the essential things in life, those things that made life worth living. We started making a list, framing it as what we would tell our daughters someday. It has been a long while since I have looked back at it –

We will use cloth napkins.
We will have compost piles.
We will make love to good men.
We will pray for peace in the world.
We will try and be peacemakers in our own world.
We will go by ourselves to fancy restaurants.
We will not make excuses for spontaneity.
We will have slow meals late into the evening.
We will have open doors to friends and strangers alike.
We will try new recipes often.
We will have successful careers.
We will be willing to give those up to be mothers.
We will not let the allure of success control our lives.
We will be bold when love requires boldness.
We will be meek when love requires meekness.
We will see everything as an opportunity to practice virtue.
We will have art on our walls.
We will stop during the day to sit and stare at it.
We will make our own art for our walls.
We will write long letters to far away friends.
We will hum as we wash the dishes.
We will say yes as often as possible.
We will say no when necessary.
We will go to the ballet in the city on a whim.
We will wear lumpy sweaters and red lipstick when we're old.
We will be sexy mothers before we grow old.
We will live in a place where we can walk to the grocery store.
We will walk or bike instead of drive as often as possible.
We will take care of our bodies.
We will not be ashamed of our bodies.
We will grow large gardens.
We will bring our children to museums.
We will never be too old to keep learning.
We will have front porches and sit on them often.
We will teach our children to love traveling.
We will teach our children to love rootedness.
We will make eye contact with the world.
We will learn new skills with each year's coming.
We will dance in the kitchen.
We will stop the car to pick flowers on the side of the road.
We will drop to our knees, everyday.
We will listen to our mothers with patience.
We will give grace to ourselves, and grace to others.
We will choose others before ourselves, without forsaking ourselves.
We will come into the peace of wild things as often as possible.