Then in a lovely moment of synchronicity this morning,
I read this comment elsewhere after reading today’s Dive.
It seems to answer the poet’s question beautifully…
“And then what do you do?”
Stories From Our Community
I ride the L train to get to work and school. Over the past 2 1/2 years, I’ve seen many sides of humanity—the generosity of strangers, the pain and isolation of mental illness, the goodness and the resilience of people who’ve been thrown away by our society. There are babies, the disabled, unhoused folks, and kids on their way home from class. I’ve seen a thousand different needs, hopes, desires, and storylines play out on the train. I ride and I bear witness. The train has become my chapel—a sacred space of encounter. Each ride offers an opportunity to be more aware of my fellow human, to respond to need with compassion, to do the next loving thing, then the next, then the next… —Yoli J.
[from Center for Action and Contemplation Daily Meditations]
A newscast absent of war and violence probably wouldn't have many viewers. Watching violence broadcast on mainstream media outlets is the pebble in America's shoe, the pebble that keeps viewers limping along, high on what watching others' misery and misfortune. Telling themselves that watching is better than not knowing, they look forward to the next six o'clock fix. To remove the pebble would be like taking away their shoes and forcing them to learn to walk barefoot! That I'm afraid would be a bit too much. The limp is easier, so they think, until violence removes their feet.
You awakened me to a truth I hadn't considered. The news fix which programs our seeing and hearing in ways that go down easily. I was raised by a father who could not go to bed until he watched the last news cast. I learned from that. I don't own a TV.
Powerful, moving song that resonates from my youth, still so relevant, with a great video that will help connect this song with a new generation. The poem is a beautiful challenge and invitation to ponder.
Great song…I love the illustration.
One of the comments posted on YouTube:
“Sorry Marvin…it’s still going on.”
😞
Then in a lovely moment of synchronicity this morning,
I read this comment elsewhere after reading today’s Dive.
It seems to answer the poet’s question beautifully…
“And then what do you do?”
Stories From Our Community
I ride the L train to get to work and school. Over the past 2 1/2 years, I’ve seen many sides of humanity—the generosity of strangers, the pain and isolation of mental illness, the goodness and the resilience of people who’ve been thrown away by our society. There are babies, the disabled, unhoused folks, and kids on their way home from class. I’ve seen a thousand different needs, hopes, desires, and storylines play out on the train. I ride and I bear witness. The train has become my chapel—a sacred space of encounter. Each ride offers an opportunity to be more aware of my fellow human, to respond to need with compassion, to do the next loving thing, then the next, then the next… —Yoli J.
[from Center for Action and Contemplation Daily Meditations]
❤️❤️
Thank you for this sharing of synchronity, Nancy. "The train has become my chapel—a sacred space of encounter." Can we make all spaces ONE SPACE?
A newscast absent of war and violence probably wouldn't have many viewers. Watching violence broadcast on mainstream media outlets is the pebble in America's shoe, the pebble that keeps viewers limping along, high on what watching others' misery and misfortune. Telling themselves that watching is better than not knowing, they look forward to the next six o'clock fix. To remove the pebble would be like taking away their shoes and forcing them to learn to walk barefoot! That I'm afraid would be a bit too much. The limp is easier, so they think, until violence removes their feet.
Consuming violence in the media as the "pebble in America's shoe"!
You awakened me to a truth I hadn't considered. The news fix which programs our seeing and hearing in ways that go down easily. I was raised by a father who could not go to bed until he watched the last news cast. I learned from that. I don't own a TV.
Thanks for your powerful provocative comment!
You are most welcome!
Powerful, moving song that resonates from my youth, still so relevant, with a great video that will help connect this song with a new generation. The poem is a beautiful challenge and invitation to ponder.
I really love new covers and visual productions of old songs (and poems).