Wednesday, September 01, 2004


............ at this place called Greenbelt, now disappeared until next year - as a festival that is, I was moved - disturbed -loved - into tears.
We did a Mike Yaconelli tribute which lasted for two hours. It was a;
.......... and more.

One of the readings which was read, and asked for by several people afterwards, is this item below.
It was read by Judy Reith.
It is by Anne Lamott.
It was underlined by Mike Yaconelli in a book loaned to Martin Wroe.
It is here for you.
Two parts were underlined.
Here for you ..............

‘For many years I fell for the great palace lie that grief should be gotten over as quickly as possible and as privately. But what I’ve discovered since is that the lifelong fear of grief keeps us in a barren, isolated place and that only grieving can heal grief; the passage of time will lessen the acuteness, but time alone, without the direct experience of grief, will not heal it.

We are a world in grief and it is at once intolerable and a great opportunity.

I’m pretty sure that it is only by experiencing that ocean of sadness in a naked and immediate way that we come to be healed – which is to say that we come to experience life with a real sense of presence and spaciousness and peace.

A fixation can give you the illusion that your life has not fallen apart. But since your life may indeed have fallen apart, the illusion won’t hold up forever, and if you are lucky and brave, you will be willing to bear disillusion. You begin to cry and writhe and yell and then to keep on crying; and then, finally, grief ends up giving you the two best things: softness and illumination.’


It’s funny: I always imagined when I was a kid that adults had some kind of inner toolbox, full of shiny tools: the saw of discernment, the hammer of wisdom, the sandpaper of patience. But then when I grew up I found that life handed you these rusty bent old tools – friendship, prayer, conscience, honesty – and said, ‘Do the best you can with these, they will have to do.’ And mostly, against all odds, they’re enough.’