I, too, am bewildered and saddened by the behavior of certain "leaders," especially the one you mentioned, and the supposed Christians who support him and those like him. Thank you for the reminder that there are more good than bad people in this world. I’m here, I care and we are in this together!
I just listened to an Atlantic article featuring a reporter and a man with a stutter who visited a Trump rally to specifically ask the attendees about his belittling of Biden’s stutter. Several of the interviewees were teachers, including at least one special education teacher. The explanations they gave for how they reconcile his words with their day to day experiences are stunning. I’m going to admit I have a very difficult time holding both/and for people after listening to that kind of thing.
I am totally new to the fact of your presence, having come by way of Sheila Kennedy's blog, expect that I know what "good eggness" is about, and want to thank you for the "Both/And" piece. It certainly can be hard to hold each of these simultaneously. It is, exactly, the scared and vulnerable, perhaps little, people who get sucked into the orbit of someone like Mr. TFG of multiple indictments, and give his sort whatever clout he has. But, yes, there are many other people who are comfortable in their skins, and can protect our culture from the acid within.
This last week has been such a challenge for myself and so many of those I speak with... AND ALSO (my favorite 2 words) I've been so fortunate to serve as a witness, often the first, to the courage and tenacity it takes to learn to trust (very slowly, a little at a time) after experiencing unspeakable cruelty and trauma... often having been invalidated and shamed for speaking truth. Healing is a slow, arduous process, with lots of fits and starts, deep curves and bends, and often sudden drop-offs that can take your breath away.
So, Carrie, I've been sharing your poetry and music, and this scene has played out in verious permutations several times. After having shared the poem "Learning to Sit with Not Knowing," the other person expressed gratitude for my sharing this, and for the previous song, "Another Day," which has helped bring comfort to many a restless mind on many a restless night.
Then, she asked: "Do you think she knows how much her words mean to us?"
I was gifted your blog and am grateful to both the giver and for you. I live in deep red territory and need to see everyday kindness. I am scared for my six year old daughter.
Thank you for your clear and honest writing. Please think about coming to Alaska. Our local theater group is called Whistling Swan. So many of us are listening and hearing you! Happy Easter!
I used to stutter a lot, as a child... sometimes still do, a bit. And so the mocking cruelty directed toward someone with a speech impediment, really stung a tender place inside...
and so it meant a lot to me, to read that you felt the cruelty too, and that because of people you love, who have experienced this challenge, you had the courage to write about it...
I, too, feel strongly about the value of acknowledging "that of Godde within each person", and that's what I most often find myself emphasizing, given how our culture tends to be so cynical about human possibility. And, at the same time... people who've been hurt can be quite hurtful to others. None of us are immune from passing on whatever pain we've received, at least until we figure out how to begin to heal from it...
And so it means a lot, when someone can say, "Ouch... I saw that... and it felt hurtful."
Thank you, Carrie. Your words reminded me of how frustrated I felt when our country invaded Iraq in 2003. I was horrified, but I also had a friend who thought it was a good thing. It was very difficult to maintain the friendship. We did, but it was never quite the same. This poem came out of it, and I offer it to you and all.
Ten Flowers
This morning I picked ten flowers—
primroses, pale yellow and gold—
for the cream pitcher-vase on the altar.
When I finished praying I said,
"In Thy Name and by Thy Flowers, Amen."
I thought to correct it, but God said, "No,
Let’s try flowers instead of power today."
What if, in the place of an angry fist
a bouquet of flowers broke upon your face?
Instead of a bloody lip, the question—
Who have you been kissing this morning?
What a day could follow from a question like that!
Why get out of bed, or leave the altar?
Do Nothing! Proclaim it Holy!
Let the generals do the fighting.
A child’s hand will overturn their chessboard.
The scent of primroses is early morning spring rain.
You are right. There are lots of kind people out there. Probably about 90% are kind in various ways. It’s the other 10% that make all the noise and get noticed, like a certain former president. But be patient. It’s not over yet. And I think we both believe in a higher power that loves us all and has promised to reward those who try to share HIS love. GOD Bless!
Thank you, Carrie, for this powerful remembrance of kindness and a call to continue sending the Love in gratitude. I remember and hold in the Light the young man who turned around and walked with the eighteen year old me who was being threatened by three drunkards late at night on my way home after the last bus from a theatre performance. As is said, we Are walking each other home. Thank Goodness!
Thank you, even though I know I'm not alone in my beliefs sometimes a reminder is such a precious thing. I read Heather Cox Richardson's Letters From an American every day. She is a Political History Professor. Not only talks about what has happen, but how it happened in history and educates her readers.
I've started looking for the sparkle in life every day. And your post today fits the bill, thank you!
Hi Karen, I also occasionally read Heather Cox Richardson’s Substack page. I really appreciate her historical perspective. Thanks for the suggestion. I think its a good one for this community1
I'm here. I'm with you. It is so hard right now to keep from letting the darkness in others dim my light. But I will look unto Jesus, the author and finisher of my faith.
It was weeks ago now that you shared Help in Hard Times. I have been working on one of the lines ever since and it just seems like the right time to share it with you.... a Golden Shovel poem (I assume you know what that is (read the last word in each line to get the quotation.) There has been much letting go in my life last year - the deaths of my brother and sister-in-law within 5 months of each other. Your writing and songs have been among those that have carried me through this time. So thank you and enjoy the poem.
When the old moon is gone…
It’s the one and only time a new moon can rise.
Carrie Newcomer in Help In Hard Times
When the Old Moon Is Gone
It is always a hard thing when
it is time to bid farewell to the
things that have sustained us in our old
life, like when the moon
wanes until it is
only a sliver and then its light is gone…
Even as the loss cuts deeply it’s
clear that the
way into our future requires letting go of one
thing, then another, and another, and
then and only
then can we look forward to a time
when we are led to a
path that is new
and unexpected and the promise of a full moon
begins again to unfold and we can
watch and wait with patience, trusting it will rise.
I, too, am bewildered and saddened by the behavior of certain "leaders," especially the one you mentioned, and the supposed Christians who support him and those like him. Thank you for the reminder that there are more good than bad people in this world. I’m here, I care and we are in this together!
Yes, I'm here, I care, I try very hard every day to see the light...one foot in front of the other. That's all we can do.
I just listened to an Atlantic article featuring a reporter and a man with a stutter who visited a Trump rally to specifically ask the attendees about his belittling of Biden’s stutter. Several of the interviewees were teachers, including at least one special education teacher. The explanations they gave for how they reconcile his words with their day to day experiences are stunning. I’m going to admit I have a very difficult time holding both/and for people after listening to that kind of thing.
I am totally new to the fact of your presence, having come by way of Sheila Kennedy's blog, expect that I know what "good eggness" is about, and want to thank you for the "Both/And" piece. It certainly can be hard to hold each of these simultaneously. It is, exactly, the scared and vulnerable, perhaps little, people who get sucked into the orbit of someone like Mr. TFG of multiple indictments, and give his sort whatever clout he has. But, yes, there are many other people who are comfortable in their skins, and can protect our culture from the acid within.
This last week has been such a challenge for myself and so many of those I speak with... AND ALSO (my favorite 2 words) I've been so fortunate to serve as a witness, often the first, to the courage and tenacity it takes to learn to trust (very slowly, a little at a time) after experiencing unspeakable cruelty and trauma... often having been invalidated and shamed for speaking truth. Healing is a slow, arduous process, with lots of fits and starts, deep curves and bends, and often sudden drop-offs that can take your breath away.
So, Carrie, I've been sharing your poetry and music, and this scene has played out in verious permutations several times. After having shared the poem "Learning to Sit with Not Knowing," the other person expressed gratitude for my sharing this, and for the previous song, "Another Day," which has helped bring comfort to many a restless mind on many a restless night.
Then, she asked: "Do you think she knows how much her words mean to us?"
I said I didn't know, but I hope so.
I so agree. There are kind people everywhere and I try to remember that and be grateful.
I was gifted your blog and am grateful to both the giver and for you. I live in deep red territory and need to see everyday kindness. I am scared for my six year old daughter.
Thank you for your clear and honest writing. Please think about coming to Alaska. Our local theater group is called Whistling Swan. So many of us are listening and hearing you! Happy Easter!
Thank you so much for writing this, Carrie...
I used to stutter a lot, as a child... sometimes still do, a bit. And so the mocking cruelty directed toward someone with a speech impediment, really stung a tender place inside...
and so it meant a lot to me, to read that you felt the cruelty too, and that because of people you love, who have experienced this challenge, you had the courage to write about it...
I, too, feel strongly about the value of acknowledging "that of Godde within each person", and that's what I most often find myself emphasizing, given how our culture tends to be so cynical about human possibility. And, at the same time... people who've been hurt can be quite hurtful to others. None of us are immune from passing on whatever pain we've received, at least until we figure out how to begin to heal from it...
And so it means a lot, when someone can say, "Ouch... I saw that... and it felt hurtful."
Thank you...
Thank you, Carrie. Your words reminded me of how frustrated I felt when our country invaded Iraq in 2003. I was horrified, but I also had a friend who thought it was a good thing. It was very difficult to maintain the friendship. We did, but it was never quite the same. This poem came out of it, and I offer it to you and all.
Ten Flowers
This morning I picked ten flowers—
primroses, pale yellow and gold—
for the cream pitcher-vase on the altar.
When I finished praying I said,
"In Thy Name and by Thy Flowers, Amen."
I thought to correct it, but God said, "No,
Let’s try flowers instead of power today."
What if, in the place of an angry fist
a bouquet of flowers broke upon your face?
Instead of a bloody lip, the question—
Who have you been kissing this morning?
What a day could follow from a question like that!
Why get out of bed, or leave the altar?
Do Nothing! Proclaim it Holy!
Let the generals do the fighting.
A child’s hand will overturn their chessboard.
The scent of primroses is early morning spring rain.
—Richard Cambridge
I go back to what you said, and you put it in song, about the former President that we can only control three feet or so.
Sad as it is, his comments are hurtful, and un American. I pray he loses
You are right. There are lots of kind people out there. Probably about 90% are kind in various ways. It’s the other 10% that make all the noise and get noticed, like a certain former president. But be patient. It’s not over yet. And I think we both believe in a higher power that loves us all and has promised to reward those who try to share HIS love. GOD Bless!
Thank you, Carrie, for this powerful remembrance of kindness and a call to continue sending the Love in gratitude. I remember and hold in the Light the young man who turned around and walked with the eighteen year old me who was being threatened by three drunkards late at night on my way home after the last bus from a theatre performance. As is said, we Are walking each other home. Thank Goodness!
Thank you, even though I know I'm not alone in my beliefs sometimes a reminder is such a precious thing. I read Heather Cox Richardson's Letters From an American every day. She is a Political History Professor. Not only talks about what has happen, but how it happened in history and educates her readers.
I've started looking for the sparkle in life every day. And your post today fits the bill, thank you!
Hi Karen, I also occasionally read Heather Cox Richardson’s Substack page. I really appreciate her historical perspective. Thanks for the suggestion. I think its a good one for this community1
I'm here. I'm with you. It is so hard right now to keep from letting the darkness in others dim my light. But I will look unto Jesus, the author and finisher of my faith.
It was weeks ago now that you shared Help in Hard Times. I have been working on one of the lines ever since and it just seems like the right time to share it with you.... a Golden Shovel poem (I assume you know what that is (read the last word in each line to get the quotation.) There has been much letting go in my life last year - the deaths of my brother and sister-in-law within 5 months of each other. Your writing and songs have been among those that have carried me through this time. So thank you and enjoy the poem.
When the old moon is gone…
It’s the one and only time a new moon can rise.
Carrie Newcomer in Help In Hard Times
When the Old Moon Is Gone
It is always a hard thing when
it is time to bid farewell to the
things that have sustained us in our old
life, like when the moon
wanes until it is
only a sliver and then its light is gone…
Even as the loss cuts deeply it’s
clear that the
way into our future requires letting go of one
thing, then another, and another, and
then and only
then can we look forward to a time
when we are led to a
path that is new
and unexpected and the promise of a full moon
begins again to unfold and we can
watch and wait with patience, trusting it will rise.
Marie C. Jerge
February 2024
Golden shovel based on quote above