We Bless the Life Around Us

 
"We bless the life around us far more than we realize. Many simple, ordinary things that we do can affect those around us in profound ways: the unexpected phone call, the brief touch, the willingness to listen generously, the warm smile or wink of recognition. We can even bless total strangers and be blessed by them. Big messages come in small packages. All it may take to restore someone's trust in life may be returning a lost earring or a dropped glove."

—Rachel Naomi Remen (excerpt from My Grandfather's Blessings)

[Posted with gratitude for the blessings of Dr. Remen's wisdom and celebrating her legacy: Feb 8, 1938 - August 8, 2026.]

Marriage of Many Years

Most of what happens happens beyond words.

The lexicon of lip and fingertip

defies translation into common speech.

I recognize the musk of your dark hair.

It always thrills me, though I can't describe it.

My finger on your thigh does not touch skin—

it touches your skin warming to my touch.

You are a language I have learned by heart.

 

This intimate patois will vanish with us,

its only native speakers. Does it matter?

Our tribal chants, our dances round the fire

performed the sorcery we most required.

They bound us in a spell time could not break.

Let the young vaunt their ecstasy. We keep

our tribe of two in sovereign secrecy.

What must be lost was never lost on us.

  —Dana Gioia 

[On the Danube River in Budapest, May 2026.]

To My Dear and Loving Husband

If ever two were one, then surely we. 

If ever man were loved by wife, then thee. 

If ever wife was happy in a man, 

Compare with me, ye women, if you can. 

I prize thy love more than whole mines of gold, 

Or all the riches that the East doth hold. 

My love is such that rivers cannot quench, 

Nor ought but love from thee give recompense. 

Thy love is such I can no way repay; 

The heavens reward thee manifold, I pray. 

Then while we live, in love let’s so persever, 

That when we live no more, we may live ever.

—Anne Bradstreet

[Happy 47th Wedding Anniversary to my favorite guy and partner for life.]

For the Traveler

 

When you travel,

A new silence

Goes with you,

And if you listen,

You will hear

What your heart would

Love to say.

A journey can become a sacred thing.

Make sure, before you go,

To bless your going forth,

To free your heart of ballast

So that the compass of your soul

Might direct you towards

The territories of spirit

Where you will discover

More of your hidden life;

And the urgencies

That deserve to claim you.

—John O'Donohue (excerpt) 

Power Steering

 

When I was six years old,
my mother bought a used
two-tone Chevy Impala
with power steering for $200.
Power steering.
She said the words as if they possessed
magical powers. She tingled as she
described in vivid detail the newfound
ease of parking and switching lanes
without the resistance of the ancient
Buick she had traded in.

As a child, I couldn’t appreciate
the power of steering.
Even now, I tend to forget
that I have the power to steer
my thoughts from the dark
cratered roads where I too often
get lost or stall out. I forget
the sheer power of steering
when my brain wanders from one
overwhelming thought to the next,
and I find myself dwelling
on past wrong turns and flat tires.

Now when I turn the key in the ignition,
I try to remember that my mind
is not a driverless vehicle.
I have the power to steer my thoughts
in the direction of gratitude,
in the direction of hope
in the direction of joy.

—Gloria Heffernan

[My family's first car with power steering.]

Our Story

Remind me again – together we
trace our strange journey, find
each other, come on laughing.
Some time we’ll cross where life
ends. We’ll both look back
as far as forever, that first day.
I’ll touch you – a new world then.
Stars will move in a different way.
We’ll both end. We’ll both begin.

Remind me again.

– William Stafford 

How We Disappear

I am in the store touching things.

Linen napkins, a blue bowl.

The world is on fire and I am choosing

between two kinds of soap.

Everyone here is doing this, filling carts

with small comforts while somewhere a child

goes to bed hungry, while the earth heats,

while men make decisions about who gets to live.

I know what this is, this careful arranging

while everything collapses.

This is how we survive.

And also how we disappear.

—Alessandra Olanow