Whyte: Being Vulnerable as a Habitat for Our Humanity

Vulnerable: Habitat for Our Humanity

“The only choice we have as we mature is how to inhabit our vulnerability…”—David Whyte.

Vulnerability. Poet David Whyte gives us one word to take with us today. Vulnerability, however, does not live alone but resides in the word community.

Intimacy. Another word that lives with vulnerability. We allow someone we trust to see and hear our inner thoughts and concerns, our highs and lows.

Humility is also a close family member of this word community. We don’t think of ourselves as any better than someone else.

Humanness whispers in the ear of vulnerability. We are to take off our mask of “perfection.” We are to admit promptly our mistakes to others and learn from them.

Forgiveness must also be a beloved companion of vulnerability. We are to ask for forgiveness when we have wronged others and be ready to forgive ourselves for our own mistakes.

Vulnerability, intimacy, humility, humanness, and forgiveness are five construction workers in a family business crucial for building our own Habitat for Humanity.

David Whyte, Consolations: The Solace, Nourishment, and Underlying Meaning of Everyday Words (Canongate Books 2019)

Joanna. Joannaseibert.com. https://www.joannaseibert.com/

Remembering Veterans

Remembering “The Great War”

“This is a war to end all wars.”—Woodrow Wilson.

I remember when we celebrated the 100th anniversary of the end of World War I, the Great War, the War to End All Wars. The war officially ended in 1918 on the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month. In 2018, at 11 a.m. on November 11th, or Veterans Day in the morning, bells tolled in churches all over the globe. Special programs about the war were held worldwide, most notably in England, Paris, and France, where the world’s diplomats met to commemorate the peace accord that ended the war.

grandfather Whaley

Both of my grandfathers served in the war and came home. I never heard Grandfather Johnson speak of his experience. The other, Grandfather Whaley, rarely talked about the war itself, but he had much to say about his experience in the army. He was born in what is now the Great Smoky Mountain National Park. Going into the armed service was his higher education.

When I was in college, my grandfather wrote me weekly on his old typewriter, on which several keys often would stick. The lines of type were uneven. Every letter, however, was full of his army experiences and how he related them to my new life in college. He would remind me that book learning was not the most critical part of my new life. He believed the best lessons were found in the people I would meet and the places where I would travel. Almost every sentence ended with etc., etc., etc.

I kept every one of his letters. The girls on my floor in my dorm would gather each week to hear about his wisdom from his life experiences a half-century earlier in the army in World War I—and about his present life in small-town Virginia.

 My latest book, Letters from my Grandfather, is about my grandfather’s letters and my response to him now, over fifty years later.

Did I forget to tell you that my grandfather always enclosed a dollar bill with each letter?

Joanna. https://www.joannaseibert.com/

Meditations on the Labyrinth

Meditation on the Labyrinth

Guest Writer: Gary Kimmel

Chartres Cathedral

“The rhythm of the turns flowed into me as I found my pace and walked where the path would take me.”—Twylla Alexander in Labyrinth Journeys: 50 States, 51 Stories (Springhill, 2017).

A few years ago, we walked the labyrinth in memory of Les Hunton, a wonderful friend, a fellow singer in the bass section, and a person who always presented a positive attitude. We miss him.

Each time I walk the labyrinth, I come away with different thoughts. Tonight, the labyrinth blessed me with the following:

All Saints

• The paths we follow are a mixture of short, medium, and long. We spend most of our busy lives on short paths: grocery shopping, taking kids to school, and getting over a cold. But some are much longer: taking an extended journey dealing with a terminal illness. We can walk fast or slow but can’t avoid these different paths. So, it is our challenge to focus on our path, not the path we just left or the one coming up.

• Those who are also on their journey are not always on the same path I am. They may be on a path of a different length, or if they are on the same path, ahead or behind me. Consequently, they may not appreciate where I am in my journey, and vice versa. Therefore, I need to guard against judging their journey based on mine.

• My path is not better or worse than another’s. They will be different at a point in time, but not better or worse. All of us will walk these paths, but we will be affected in unique ways.

• Richard Rohr points out that there are two stages of life: building the ego and incorporating that ego into Creation. Likewise, as you enter the labyrinth, you must work a little to become contemplative. As you walk toward the center, this mood becomes a part of you. But when you reach the center, you are only halfway. At some point, you turn, retrace your steps in a wholly contemplative mood, and leave the labyrinth with a new/renewed perspective.

I look forward to my next journey through the labyrinth and what it will bring me.

Gary Kimmel

Joanna. https://www.joannaseibert.com/