Mosaic Lessons
Hello folks,
It’s my last week of work before sabbatical, but it’s not the week I was hoping it would be… I have covid. As of this writing, I’m mostly recovered–some fatigue and residual sore throat, but the fever is long gone. But it’s really altered the flow of the week. Rather than several full days tying up loose ends before I step away from church and coaching for a few months, it’s been short, low-key bursts of activity, followed by naps.
In that spirit… a few bite-sized thoughts to share.
These images have been on my camera for a few weeks, during one of my recent walks with Robert:
The paths around Reston have a lot of tunnels like this, and many are adorned with murals and other artwork. This is the first one I’d seen decorated with mosaics. Robert remarked that graffiti would be much easier to remove from mosaics than simple paint murals–all you’d need to do is power-wash and the original art would remain. At the time I was struck by the wisdom of creating something well the first time, something that could be repaired and that would last. It feels countercultural in a society that prizes the quick, fast, and cheap… but maybe that’s starting to change. (This article suggests that The Era of Cheap and Plenty May Be Ending, and “right of repair” movements and sustainability ventures are very much alive, and perhaps even growing?)
Since then, as I’ve scrolled through the photos on my phone, the mosaics have come back to delight me, and have come to mean other things as well:
--During this very ugly few weeks in national and world news, there is beauty right around me. Though my heart is broken and my righteous fury as ignited as ever, it’s vital to be connected to beauty and basic goodness that fuels the fight and gives it meaning. (May I also suggest this article from the Atlantic, arguing that “Seeing news of mass shooting after mass shooting can produce both a stress response and a cynical sense that nothing will change.” Be well-informed, but discerning.)
--I’ve been thinking lately about what it means to be a good ancestor. The creators and funders and curators of tunnel mosaics were good ancestors by creating something that could be enjoyed for generations. What am I doing to be a good ancestor? Where might I display some holy foresight?
--When in doubt, go for a walk. You will find inspiration right outside your door.
This last one may be the most salient for me at this moment, just two days from sabbatical. I want to read all of the books and listen to all of the music and do lots of writing, but mainly I want to take care of my body–massages, dancing, stretching, resting, eating good food, and yes, walking across Scotland in a few weeks. The more I consider the events of the last few years–the traumas, the overwhelm, the nonstop onslaught of news and heartbreak–the more convinced I am that healing is not cognitive, or at least not only cognitive. It’s somatic. It’s connected to how we treat bodies–our own and others’.
I hope you will be kind to your body in the weeks to come. I will see you sporadically this summer, and more regularly as we near the fall.
Steady on.
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What I’m Up To
During the prayer time two Sundays ago at the church I serve, we remembered those who recently lost their lives to gun violence. You can watch starting here.
I preached on Sunday, June 5. You can watch the recording here.
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Link Love
Speaking of taking care of one’s body, I’ll be doing a lot of this eight-minute Joy “workout” this summer.