Every Thursday, the Sisters in our Province receive weekly updates of events, issues of concern and news about province members and our Associates. Each time there is an introductory quote that makes us think. I thought yesterday’s offering was helpful in allowing some hope even in the midst of our concerns about the future of our planet. I share it not so that you and I can sit back and breathe relief, but in order to regroup our hope and willingness to participate in solutions.
The same way to look at the future on a warming planet — and the best way to survive it — is…to see what’s coming not as an inevitability, but as a work in progress: moldable reality affected by the choices we make today and tomorrow, and next year. Engaged optimism of this kind has been a critical ingredient of historical progress…The New Deal, forged amid the despair of the Great Depression, was not only an urgent response to the woes of the urban jobless and the displaced Dust Bowl farmers but also an act of optimism boldly spending resources not just to alleviate immediate pain but for the sake of the radically different future that FDR and others envisioned for American society. (Bina Venkataraman, “Why We Still Need Climate Optimism” The Washington Post, Sept. 16, 2019)
Last night again I stayed up late watching amazing young people engage in sports. And again I was heartened to hear them tell not only of their joy at winning medals but also of their gratitude for the support of their teams, their coaches and all others who have supported them in their efforts. They also spoke of the privilege of representing their country at the Olympics – just being there, in such a “world community” as indescribable. In the face of all the negative events swirling around us daily in the news and in our neighborhoods, it is helpful to experience the worldwide cooperation that is evident in the contests in Rio.
Today there is a different sound outside my open window, one I don’t remember hearing since the leafing out of the trees was complete in the spring. It’s raining, a steady drenching rain that makes itself known in the sound of its passing through those leaves on its way to ground. Oh, we’ve had showers and the occasional rumbling of thunder with five minute sprinkles but this is different; this is like a long drink of cold water on a hot day. The birds are silent, most likely hunkered down like all of us humans trying to stay dry, but the farmers must be – no doubt – dancing with joy. I’m happy for the farmers and the animals and the tasseling corn. I’m happy for people everywhere who are thirsty and whose water has not been polluted by design or by neglect.
The Sophia Center for Spirituality 