Peripheral Ponderings

My Quotations file is where I jot down interesting sayings that are worth saving and pondering on.   It’s getting to be about 30 pages long, and is a real hodge-podge of wisdom gleaned from a wide variety of sources.

We also have our own family platitudes accumulated over a decades-long marriage of partnering and parenting.   Along with these are those inherited from our own parents, or from astute co-workers.  Here is a sample of some of them, in no particular order:

“If you ask for trouble, it will come!”  Wise Mom prediction, based on experience

“It’s all fun now, until someone gets hurt!”  To kids scuffling in a play-fight

“No, fanks.”  Toddler grand-daughter learning etiquette

“Be careful of the company you keep.”  When oatmeal cookies stored along with bran muffins in a container turned to mush.

“Home again, home again!  Jiggety-jog!”  Said with relief to a carload of kids when turning into our driveway after a long road trip

“I have no useful opinion.”   From Ellen, HR manager in my workplace

“No good deed goes unpunished.”  To anyone disappointed by consequences after showing kindness

“Look on the bright side.”   After cataract surgery, when the view from one eye was much brighter than the other

“This, too, shall pass.”  Maternal axiom shared by co-worker at McMaster

“We spent a week there one afternoon.”   From co-worker who accompanied partner on a difficult family visit

“Everything was just slightly off.”  From elderly gentleman, commenting on the journalistic accuracy of his newspaper interview

“It’s not black and white.”  Referring to epic early courtship argument about whether black and white were colours

“Tomorrow is promised to no one.”  From the lawyer preparing our will

“But I wanna be first!”  Oldest to the second child when she had run so fast in a circle around the kitchen and living room that she was actually now behind the second.

“Dat is jammer (pronounced ‘yummer’).”   Jammer being a word I heard so often while accompanying my parents on a trip to Holland, that I finally had to ask what it meant.  Apparently a lot of things are just unfortunate

“If it’s worth doing, it’s worth doing well.”  From my father, who generally was in such a big rush that he took risky shortcuts

“I guess the world will just have to get along without it!”  From my friend Siska, after I’d forgotten something profound I wanted to say

“Nothing good happens after 2 a.m.”  Advice on when to leave a college party from a roommate’s parent

“How come Holland is so small on this map?”  Overheard on a school’s visiting grandparent day, addressed to student who was a grandchild of Dutch immigrants.  Helpful when needing perspective

“If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again!”   An attitude of perseverance (and stubbornness) that will not stay down, will not give up.  Very effective when lived out by example

Learning is lifelong, and these adages are borne out of shared experiences over many years.  They are touchstones to address the ordinary circumstances of life, the inside jokes that still cause us to share a smile, a memory.

“I see no alternative, each of us must turn inwards and destroy in himself all that he thinks he ought to destroy in others.  And remember that every atom of hate we add to the world makes it still more inhospitable.

And you, Klaas . . . dismayed and astonished at the same time, say “But that – that is nothing but Christianity!”  And I, amused by your confusion, retort quite coolly, “Yes, Christianity, and why ever not?”    From Etty Hillesum, An Interrupted Life

Etty Hillesum was a Dutch Jew, an author who recounted in her diaries the story of Jewish deportation to German concentration camps in the second world war.  Her journals grapple with the evil perpetrated on helpless victims, and the complexity of those who collaborated.  Caught up in the relentless Nazi machinery, she was sent to Auschwitz where she was murdered in 1943.

On Good Friday, the only truly innocent man the world has ever known was sentenced to death.  But Jesus himself knew he could not take on fully the human condition unless he carried our sin, bore the brunt of its consequences in his own person.  He came for that purpose, and determinedly set his face towards Jerusalem to die there.

As Christians, we often try very hard to avoid the way of the cross, for ourselves and for others.  I remember once realizing with sinking heart that I’d crucified someone in my desperation to be free.  A vision of Jesus appeared, laid down on the boards of a cross, being nailed into place.  As much as, in that moment, I wanted to turn back and take him off,  I knew that this had to happen, that it was the only hope of a way forward.    Jesus hangs in our place, blocks punishment and vengeance, and gives us all the undeserved grace of new life instead.  It’s so amazing that it’s beyond my comprehension.

Etty did not survive the war, but her words did.  She became “the chronicler of this age” that she had wanted to be.  Not only as a victim and witness of evil, but also a victor who loved her fellow human beings.

Like a true Jesus-follower.

“Any man’s death diminishes me, for I am involved in mankind. And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.”

– John Donne

If life has taught me anything, it’s that we are connected, not only to our own little circle, but also to someone who may be living half way across the world.  In our digital age,  pictures of war in Ukraine can be beamed by satellite in seconds, and we all experience their tragedy.

Our connection is also evident when you study the history of great inventions.  Many times the original inventor comes up with only a germ of an idea.  But that idea gets picked up by another person who greatly enhances it so that it is now relevant and marketable to the general public.    We’ve seen that, as all the small practices of our household can contribute to a giant problem with waste that now affects everyone’s environment.

Scientists connect galaxies and all living things as coming from a single point before the big bang 13.7 billion years ago.  So it makes sense that what I do may have consequences for someone far away from me in either place or time.  And spiritually, as part of humanity, we are children of God who can reach out to Him and each other through unseen channels of prayer, love and grace.

“From one man he made every nation of men, that they should inhabit the whole earth; and he determined the times set for them and the exact places where they should live.  God did this so that men would seek him and perhaps reach out for him and find him, though he is not far from each one of us.  For in him we live and move and have our being.’ As some of your own poets have said, `We are his offspring.’            Acts 17:26-28

Our being here is no accident of random chance.   Many of those we knew of the older generations have passed on, but each person was unique.   We remember their kindness or perseverance, or quirks.  There are no replacements, and so we grieve.

If we are diminished by those we have lost, it is also conversely true that we are gifted whenever there is new life.  A friend sent a happy text this morning to announce the arrival of her new grand-daughter.  Several degrees of separation away, I can still share her joy.

Our local hospital has a custom of announcing the birth of a new baby by broadcasting the bells of a lullaby over their intercom.  It’s a cheery note of hope that makes us smile when we hear it.  Bells were messengers that announced departures,  and it’s a nice touch to have them proclaim new arrivals.  Either way, it’s a reminder that life is a very precious gift.

Sing the Poem

It’s in the rhyming,
Or maybe in the timing,
But the throbbing of the beat
Sets to tap-tapping my feet.

Poet, ply and play your trade
With poetry you have made.
Come sing with us, sun and moon!
Come dance on the lilt of the tune.  

Spring is still several weeks away, but there’s something about its approach that already lightens my mood in anticipation.   Soon heavy winter gear and wool sweaters can be stored away for another season.     And I look forward to a resurrection of new life as plants and trees rouse themselves from their long sleep to again fill the world with riotous colour.

Spring has its own challenges, true.  The force of nature in springtime can feel wild and chaotic and determined.  It will be wonderful to see the birds building their nests, but our resident woodpecker began yesterday, once more, to drill into our deck siding.  There’s work to be done in springtime, planting of gardens, grass to cut.

Winter has its icy dangers,  but I am always aware of our vulnerability in spring and summer as we move outdoors.  Life seems teeming and reckless in its abandon.  At least once in springtime, I will feel an overwhelming wave of sadness.  Spring and summer, when we are freer, can feel dangerous.  It’s more difficult to enclose and protect our loved ones from harm.

But in spring, sorrows don’t stay for long.  They recede in the warmth of the sun, in the breeze that caresses us like a lover and invites us once again to live our own lives fully.    Eternity is forever, but our time here is so limited that we want to take in all that we can.  As the poet Mary Oliver asked, “what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”

And even if no one else is around, we can turn up the music and dance while we do our household chores.   We can dance in the dark, under the stars, in sacred solitude.