The Miracles We Find & The Miracles That Find Us
New Show Announcements, Things I loved This Week
This has been a week of unexpected miracles for me. A few days ago when I was heading down to the pond near my home, I encountered a perfect doe and her newborn wobbly twin fawns. I backed away and moved to the far side of the water’s edge so as to give the little family group a bit more space and a greater sense of safety. Through my bianculors and close function on my camera, I was able to watch that attentive doe beautifully care for her still damp babies was a gift of the highest order.
Later that day I received a text from someone who had been having advocacy conversations for the past week with representatives from the state of New York. She let me know that The Freedom to Read Act and Open Shelves Act had passed through the New York Senate with bipartisan support, ensuring that school and public libraries offer access to a wide variety of age-appropriate materials. The Acts were proposed in response to a national effort to ban books from libraries and classrooms, primarily targeting those that he. The Acts also protect librarians from harassment for simply doing the jobs they love and were hired to do. There are miracles happening every day. Some miracles come as unexpected blessings as when I happened upon that beautiful doe and her new fawns. Some miracles arrive because of long work, effort, conversation, community connection and courageous action —as the passage of a bill to keep the public library system free, accessible and providing diverse and inclusive materials.
Some miracles find us. Some miracles are envisioned and imagined and then created and brought into being by individual and collective action.
We are living in a time when every day brings overwhelming amounts of heartbreaking news. Many of us are experiencing a profound sense of disorientation as we see trusted democratic structures being pulled down— while daily life continues. I remember in the aftermath of losing someone I loved deeply, feeling perplexed, angry and a bit dazed that the world was going on as if nothing had happened, as if everything hadn’t been utterly changed. Often I find myself navigating a similar kind of state as I’m watching the structures vital to our common good being gutted and deliberately broken.
I am finding it very important to acknowledge this disorientation and give language to the experience. I’ve found it hard to work with an issue if it goes unnamed and so framing these feelings and having conversations about it with trusted friends is essential. Yes, I am still getting up in the morning and going about my daily tasks. But I’m finding that I must be very intentional about asking myself “What is mine to do” and “How can I be part of a community of care pushing back?” I take comfort and inspiration in the beauty of that doe and her fawns, the light spring breeze, the new plants in the garden, music and literature and art, the sound of the wood thrush in the evening. I keep leaning into what keeps me grounded and centered in what I love. And yet, everyday I resolve to do what I can do, what gifts I have to offer, and connect with community for sanctuary, support, creative envisioning and the power of collective action.
I know cannot I cannot personally fix everything that is ailing this troubled country and world. I honestly deeply and powerfully wish I could, and so I lay my hand on my heart and feel it break a little bit each day for what I cannot personally change. But I am called by love to do what I can, change what I can, to be a part of the miracles that happen with daily faithful effort and imagination.
David Whyte wrote in his beautiful poem "Loaves and Fishes” this is not just a time of information, of doom scrolling and crawling headlines. This is the time of loaves and fishes, when we dig deep from what seems like an empty sack, when every good word, every kind word, every courageous word is like bread for a thousand.
Question
What do you think about this idea of giving language to the disorientation of these times as we go about our daily lives? Have you ever experienced a time when a kind word, encouraging word, courageous or good word felt like the bread you needed that day?
Upcoming Concerts, Events & Appearances
I will be spending some time this summer working on creative pursuits. To learn more about my concerts, retreats and appearances beginning fall of 2025 check out my website tour page at www.carrienewcomer.com/tour.
I was delighted to be interviewed by Author Brian McLaren and Carmen Acevedo Butcher for Richard Rohr’s Center of Contemplation Podcast “Learning How to See”. https://cac.org/podcasts/seeing-and-loving-the-divine-in-the-everyday-with-carrie-newcomer
New Show Announcement - Early Tickets Available Today
I'm excited to announce that tickets are now available for my December 7th Concert with Pianist Gary Walters at the Unitarian Universalist Church of Bloomington IN Presented by Bloomington Roots! Its a bit more intimate room than I usually play in my hometown so get your tickets early! Here’s the link for Tickets.
Things I Loved This Week
Nature 365
Nature 365 is a unique program which broadcasts free moments of nature everyday. The project was conceived of by award winning photographer Jim Brandenburg. You can sign up to receive an email short free 1 minute videos of the natural world (particularly in Brandenburg’s home area of the boundary waters of Minnesota). They won’t send you anything else or share your email address. I’ve been on their email receiving list for several years. Or if you’d prefer you can just go to their website and check out today’s video.
Music Always Music
This is a song, I Do Not Know Its Name, from my compilation album early works Kindred Spirits, that was described in The Learning To See Podcast with Brian McLaren. How do you give language to what has no words? How to describe something you sense in the air or all around that has no name? The opening lines of the Tao Te Ching are “The name that can be named is not the enduring and unchanging name.”
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Gratitude
One Inch Photos
I feel like I’m taking a big risk here although the truth is, I’m probably not, but it feels that way at the moment. So I have a couple of things I’d like to share. Years ago I was a hospice social worker and I had lost a young female patient from advanced metastatic breast cancer. She wasn’t someone that I loved. She wasn’t a friend or family member. She was just a dear human being that I met at the end of her life. Our time together wasn’t very long, but for some reason her death impacted me in a way different than other patients I had cared for. I was driving that afternoon, and I happened to drive by a playground, filled with children playing, which normally would make me smile and lift my day. That day I found myself angry that the world was continuing on without even a pause. I feel like my memory is poor and I don’t remember a lot of things, but the world rolling on that day impacted me. I think it was my first true, true understanding of how grief can feel and how little reason lies within it. Now, many years later, I try purposefully to enter myself into people’s worlds of grief, partly because of that day, partly because of the losses in my own life and partly because of those losses, I learned the healing value of music, and even more importantly, I learned about there being healing in the sound of your voice Carrie. I truly appreciate and believe in the genuineness of this group here at gathering of the spirits, and so, in spite of the fact that tears are forming in my eyes as I write this, here is my risk part. I am disappointed when I hear someone else’s voice reading your post, whether it’s someone you care about or an AI voice, I’m disappointed. I know how very busy you are and so I feel selfish and almost entitled saying this. The first time I heard a different voice, I wasn’t brave enough, but today through the tears in my eyes I know it’s important for me to share that disappointment. Wow, I didn’t think it would make me cry but I am. When I wake up in the morning and I see there’s a new post, I get up, make myself some coffee and sit down to listen. It’s been so lovely to hear your voice talking to us, sharing your feelings and thoughts, asking questions, challenging us to stretch our thinking and so for me, I would rather there were no voice than it isn’t your voice, because for me, there is SO MUCH healing in the sound of your voice. It is with the utmost respect that I am sharing this. At 66 years old, I still struggle with those words from my mom that she did not want to raise a spoiled only child. Apparently, I still have some personal work to do about being genuinely honest and fearing I am being selfish. Lynnette
As I face the destruction of so many pieces of what makes our country a democracy, as I witness our leaders’ hatefulness, I , too, try to keep myself open to the beauty and small miracles that are around me. But sometimes it’s so hard to breathe through my days and feel the gratefulness for those little reminders.
Thank you, Carrie for
being an inspiration.