Uncloistered

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  “She gazed ahead through a long reach of future days strung together like pearls in a rosary, every one like the others, and all smooth and flawless and innocent, and her heart went up in thankfulness. Outside was the fervid summer afternoon; the air was filled with the sounds of the busy harvest of men and birds and bees; there were halloos, metallic clatterings, sweet calls, and long hummings. Louisa sat, prayerfully numbering her days, like an uncloistered nun.” A New England Nun By Mary E. Wilkins Freeman (1852–1930)

Sympatheia

In the course of a lifetime, exploratory craft have barely cleared the solar system, which is adrift in the great fiery wheel of our galaxy. If the number of stars are uncountable, how much more are the number of galaxies? It’s both terrifying and beautiful. The immensity of the Universe only underscores how small we are. Yet, it’s where we live. 

Since we are small, how much smaller are the things that trouble us? We are made for each other, not in spite of one another. “That fewer still, in public affairs, act to the good of mankind.” (Benj. Franklin) Despite all that space we have to spread out, this little planet is all we are given on which to thrive. Marvel in it, marvel at it, but be grateful for what (and who) you have. Nothing is resolved by strife.


Next time someone asks you where you are from or where you live, simply say, “I’m your neighbor.”




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