Things of Beauty

Fyodor Dostoevsky once said "Beauty can Save the World."

I know in some ways it saved me during this past year. I'm relieved 2009 is over. I'm sure many people feel like that. Layoffs, financial disaster, unemployment, foreclosures. We were in the midst of that. In the middle of my months-long unemployment (even though I now have a long-term contract position, I don't yet have a fulltime job. But I thank God daily for work.), I had to literally live day-to-day: "Today we have enough to eat. Today we still have a home. Today was have warm clothes." Every time I looked a few months down the road, I would panic, wondering if our money would run out, or how long the unemployment would last.

Our struggles pale in comparison to the suffering I see in Haiti today. We're not wandering the streets looking for loved ones who are trapped in collapsed buildings. We're not wondering whether the Red Cross will deliver enough water. We're not stepping over dead bodies in the streets. I can't imagine....

Yet, in the context of my comparably comfortable world, I don't want to discount our pain. I can acknowledge it while knowing some people have far worse suffering. It is still difficult to wonder what the future will bring. Whether or not we will ever adopt a child, whether or not we will have regular work. To possibly let some dreams die.

At night, during this past year, I would crawl into bed and read. It's my favorite time of the day. The day is done. Work is done. Now I get to read beautiful words.

Kathleen Norris, one of my favorite authors, at one point in her life replaced religion for poetry. The beauty of the words and ideas were enough transcendence for her. Faith in poetry was the only faith she needed. While she ended up going back to church and finding God again, I can relate to her feelings.

Not all books are transcendent. But a few I read this year have been. And not just books. Art, architecture, relationships. When things seem especially difficult, the beauty in this world, in contrast, stands out in relief, as if to say, "Hey, look over here! Don't miss this!"

So here's my list of Things of Beauty 2009:

Elizabeth Strout, author "Olive Kitteridge" (winner of Pulitzer Prize)

Olive Kitteridge is one of the best books I've read in years. Olive Kitteridge is a collection of short stories held together by the character of Olive Kitteridge who appears in most of them. The second chapter, "Incoming Tide" as a stand-alone short story rates up there with the best of Flannery O'Connor, in my humble opinion.



Richard Rohr, another author I discovered this year. In the midst of my layoff, his book "Everything Belongs" helped me to make sense of it. He writes:

"In God's reign, everything belongs, even the broken and poor parts."

And:

"We are at a symbolic disadvantage as a wealthy culture. Jesus said that the rich man or woman will find it hard to understand what he is talking about. The rich can satisfy their loneliness and longing in false ways, in quick fixes that avoid the necessary learning. In terms of soul work, we dare not get rid of the pain before we have learned what it has to teach us. That's why the poor have a head start. They can't resort to an instant fix to any problem: aspirin, a trip, or some entertainment. They remain empty whether they want to or not."



The Modern Wing at the Art Institute. Thank you, Renzo Piano.




Sailing on Lake Michigan on a gorgeous fall afternoon.



Kitka: Sanctuary, a Cathedral Concert. I sing in an all-women's Nordic Choir. My friend, Nell, from the choir, introduced me to the music of Kitka. Thanks Nell!



My niece's wedding. She lived in an orphanage in China until she was 8. Now she has a college degree and a wonderful husband. Her life is a beautiful story.




Our "Open Mic" Christmas Eve. My talented nephews read poetry, played the violin, guitar, piano, to give us a glimpse of beauty on the night we celebrated Christ's birth.



Songs in Haiti. I heard a news report about how the night after the earthquake, as people were on the streets, their homes destroyed, the Haitians started singing, and their songs continued through the night. Out of ashes comes beauty. Or, as the poet Rumi writes, "Where there is ruin, there is hope for a treasure."

My prayer is that the people of Haiti will find beauty and treasure in the midst of ruin. And that in some small way, it will save them.

Welcome to 2010

My poor, poor Blog. I have left it neglected and abandoned. And in the neglect of my blog, I feel I have let a little bit of my voice has died.

I must admit, I started having a love/hate relationship with blogging. After doing it for 4 years, I felt a little burned out, like the well had dried up, and I didn't know why I was doing it anymore. I think in this era of "social networking" and blogging, we (or I) often feel like I'm not significant or maybe I don't even exist if I'm not being heard in the cyber-world. So, I think I was rebelling against that feeling, and I sub-consciously thought, "what would happen if I just stopped it all? Would people still like me? Would I spend more time doing things that seem more significant? Would I still exist?"

Well, I'm still here. Now that I've proven that I can exist without blogging, I'm yearning to get back to it. I think it's a natural desire to be heard. To tell stories. We all do this in different ways. And as a writer, I guess one way I can do that is to keep blogging.

I miss that connection I have with my handful of readers. I miss the small opportunity to express myself and tell my story. I miss writing something other than website copy. I guess I just miss this outlet.

So I've decided to start blogging again, and see what happens.

So here's to 2010. David and I are both working again. Compared to a year ago, we are very thankful. But if it's one thing I've learned in the past year, it's that "security" is a very slippery thing. Jobs come and go. Bank accounts can be depleted in an instant. Things that we tend to count on -- like a good economy, a stable government, always being able to find work -- we have discovered we can't really rely on. But when all else is crumbling around me, my faith grows. My perspective clears. My priorities get re-aligned.

2009 was hard, but I'm grateful for the way my soul has expanded. Part of me wants 2010 to be easier and more comfortable, with more financial success and less trauma. But what will I miss out on if that happens?