I don’t know about where you live, but where I live, Spring is playing a teasing game of hide-and-seek. The tantalizing scents, sights, and sounds cause my heart to swell with joy and anticipation of the refreshing weather and soul rejuvenation that is just around the corner (but the continued chilly days bring a damper).
With the changing of the season, I feel the urge to start some new life-habits, including a new book that I hope will give me some deeper insight into my own journey. Have you ever read The Life You Save May Be Your Own by Paul Elie? My impression is that it will compare, contrast, and ponder over what it’s four authors of focus wrote, lived, and contributed (the book looks at the lives of Flannery O’Connery, Dorothy Day, Thomas Merton, and Walker Percy). I’d love to hear your thoughts if you’ve read it.
I know little bits about each of these authors—some more than others. There is something deep and contemplative, hidden even, that I want to explore and gain from their experiences. I’ve always loved the deeper things in life because that’s where bonding and community form, it’s where life is best lived and souls are grown.
Community is a beautiful and necessary thing. When I reflect back over my 26.5 years, I see the ways I’ve grown and changed based on who I was around. I also notice the maturing, though difficult, I’ve undergone during the lonely times in my life. These authors, though separated by distance, have been placed in a category of influence during the 20th century much, it seems, like those members of the Lost Generation or the Transcendentalists (both groups with members or offspring from whom I garner inspiration) in their times.
Some of these communities burgeon into influential movements that impact the world, others will remain smaller and impact those in their immediate sphere of influence, but ALL serve a purpose. One of my favorite times of community was during college when I was surrounded by close friends, all of us doing our best to figure out our lives. It gets harder after graduating, when everyone disperses. I’m thankful for the occasional visit or unexpected circle of peers (shout out to my Black Mountain people), because as a social adult, especially one recovering from a disease that limits my social time, I still need that connection that feeds my soul, the one that lets us share the struggles we are facing and what work we’re doing to address them.
One of my aunts shared a piece of Chinese wisdom with me yesterday: if you want to make a change in your life, do it for one minute a day until it becomes habit for that length of time. Then, add a second minute. The things in our lives we want to change—part of why I’ve chosen to read this new book—start with simple steps, like reading a short story in the evening before bed to feed my mind but without the commitment to something much longer. It means making intentional decisions based on my personal goals for each day and stage of life.
Here’s to picking something you want to make a habit and doing it for one minute!
Here’s to creating community and going deep.
Here’s to Spring and rebirth.