My title for this newsletter is a little ironic, I must admit, considering that today the weather is gray and gloomy here in Atlanta, and for many of you there’s still snow and ice on the ground (and will be for a while).
But the title hit me when I was out for a long trail walk yesterday with our golden retriever Twix, and I couldn’t resist. The sky was sunny, temperatures were in the 60s, and the day just felt like a glimpse of spring, which we’ve all been longing for after these ice-cold winter months.
Even the daffodils here are starting to sprout up through the ground, which reminds me right now is a chance to start anew — no matter how long we’ve been underground, we get another chance to bloom again.
It’s a funny feeling, being 55 years old and feeling like you need to start anew, or start over. When I was a kid, I always thought I’d have more things figured out by now, you know?
But it dawned on me once when I was sitting in a service at our church, listening to our priest recite a Bible passage; hadn’t I heard this before? Like, many times?
When I started paying closer attention — and not simply daydreaming in the pew, which is what I’ve done for most of my life 😉 — I saw how the same material gets covered every year, from start to finish.
We read the same passages from the Bible, and through the same sections of our prayer book. (My family and I go to an Episcopal church, so the Book of Common Prayer is a big part of our service.)
Starting in Advent and proceeding through Lent, Easter and Pentecost, we cover the same ground, reflect on the same ideas and thoughts, year after year. You’d think we might shake things up and try something different, wouldn’t you? But we don’t — it’s the same, year after year.
Maybe most churches are like this; I’m honestly not sure, because I’ve visited other denominations only a handful of times in my life. From what I’ve seen when I’ve visited other houses of worship, though, there’s at least some broad commonality with my own.
We read (largely) the same book, we find the same stories meaningful… you’d think at some point we’d all “get it” and no longer need to keep reviewing the same material year after year, wouldn’t you?
Earlier this week, I had the chance to sit down for a Zoom conversation with Henriette Lazaridis, who’s been a longtime friend and subscriber of THM. (She was even kind enough to do an interview with me a few years ago!)
I reached out to her because I wanted to talk about writing, publishing and the business of both, as well as the possibility of turning this newsletter into a book-length project; Henriette is an accomplished novelist and a co-founder of her own publishing company, so I knew I’d come to the right place.
We covered so many things, but one that stuck out came when I asked her this: I know how to write an 800- or 1,000-word essay; how do I know when I have an idea that’s worth devoting 200 or 300 pages to? How do I know if there’s enough “there” there?
Her response? “Think like the inquisitive two-year-old you once were, and keep asking why.” Take out a sheet of paper, jot down your ideas, and look at them from every angle — and keep asking why, keep digging down to what’s underneath them.
I realized how tempting it can become, especially when you reach my age, to go through the motions of whatever you’re doing — your work, a church service like I mention above, really anything — without even realizing you’re going through the motions.
Especially when it’s something we’ve done repeatedly, we can fall into a mindlessness we’re barely even aware of. But, like the spring, there’s also invitation to reflect, to think more deeply, to really consider whatever it is we’re experiencing, listening to, going through.
I realize how much more there is to see when, like Henriette says, to really look, to really see what’s in front of me. What I might be missing.
Once upon a time, I’d sit in a church pew and gaze at the ceiling, blissful in my own headspace, but also missing what was going on all around me. That’s not exactly the crime of the century, of course 😀 But what if I tried noticing, or listening, a little more closely?
I hope you’re having an amazing week and getting some great runs in — as always, keep in touch and let me know how your running/life is going.
Your friend,
— Terrell
John Burroughs -- "To learn something new, take the path you took yesterday"
The daffs have buds here. . .I check all of it every day!