Bits and pieces

Some favorites from the past few weeks:

This new podcast. Because there's no such thing as too much Modern Love.

This book, by one of my all-time favorite authors. Some other good reads: Little Victories by Jason Gay, Lila by Marilynne Robinson, and What She Knew by Gily Macmillan.

My 16-year-old daughter, Kate, turned me on to this vlog on YouTube, and now I can't get enough. I especially love this one about snowboarding through the streets of Manhattan.

This family of six sold their house in London to travel the world for a year. I've been following along on Instagram.

And this poem, which I find myself reading again and again:

Geese appear high over us,
pass, and the sky closes. Abandon,
as in love or sleep, clear
in the ancient faith: what we need
is here. And we pray, not
for new earth or heaven, but to be
quiet in heart, and in eye,
clear. What we need is here. ~ Wendell Berry

Photo: National Geographic

Friday thoughts

The details of the story I'm about to tell you elude me, such as the store I was in or what I was looking for, but about a year ago I was in a store looking for something, and the woman (very young) who was helping me suggested I look online. I must have stared at her blankly for just a second, because she said, "That means the In-ter-net," as if I were 110 years old.

I remembered this last night when I was thinking about the Internet and how I'm still sometimes amazed at being able to look up anything I can possibly think of at the exact moment I think of it. (Coming across something I'd never think of in a million years or know anything about also is good.)

Last night I was thinking about Mary Oliver and began to read through some of her poems. I have several favorites, and there they all were, just by typing her name. Here's one I particularly love because of the last line. Amazing thing, that In-ter-net. I hope you have a happy (almost summer) weekend.

The Summer Day, Mary Oliver

Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean -
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down -
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

(Photograph: Baby grasshopper by Jack Hochfield. National Geographic Traveler Photo Contest 2012)

Thoughts

To go on a family vacation and be able to read a book (or two) all the way through is a wonderful thing. I had been looking forward to both "Autobiography of Us" by Aria Beth Sloss and "Frances and Bernard" by Carlene Bauer, and I liked the first but loved the latter. One reviewer said he thought the ending was a bit of a letdown, but I disagree. I've gone back several times to reread the last page.

The elementary school that two of my children go to is celebrating National Poetry Month with what it calls "Poem in a Pocket Day." Every child is to write or find a poem that takes no longer than 30 seconds to read or recite and keep that poem in his or her pocket, ready to share if someone asks. While I won't name names, one of us was a little more enthusiastic about this project than the other, but both ended up with poems I think are "very them" folded (or stuffed) in their pockets. This is what I might choose if someone asked me to put a poem in my pocket.

I enjoyed this article in The New York Times Sunday Styles section (from a couple weeks back - still catching up) on conflict resolution in families, i.e. how to manage arguments and end up happier. The article includes several tips such as sitting in comfortable seats when discussing uncomfortable subjects; avoiding the word "you" in any discussion, such as "You never do this..."; and my personal favorite, the three-minute rule, which recognizes that the most important points can be made in the opening minutes. "After that, people repeat themselves at higher and higher decibels," the author says. For me, that's a hard one but a good one.

A little background on the photograph below, which is this month's Boston Magazine cover. According to the magazine, the original May cover was almost ready to go to print when the editors learned of the bombings in Boston. They quickly started over and came up with the idea of a heart composed of shoes worn in the marathon. They sent out posts on Facebook and Twitter asking runners if they would be willing to donate their shoes and to be interviewed about their experiences. Staffers also talked to friends and friends-of-friends until they had the 120 shoes you see below. I love this story, and I love this beautiful and touching cover.

Happy weekend.

(Photograph by Mitch Feinberg for Boston Magazine)