Flaming Chalice symbol

Richmond & Putney Unitarian Church

AN INCLUSIVE RELIGIOUS AND SPIRITUAL COMMUNITY OF OPEN MINDS AND OPEN HEARTS

From Hart to Hearts

A Message from Rev Linda Hart for the month of November 2009

At the first meeting of the Living By Heart group, I asked if anyone had with them little bits of wisdom that they carried in their wallets. Often, when we find a snippet of an essay or a fragment of a poem that speaks to us, we’ll find a way to carry it with us. I have several little bits in my diary that I look at from time to time, but also have a few poem fragments that I know by heart. That night I recited

To live in this world

you must be able

to do three things:

to love what is mortal;

to hold it

against your bones knowing

your own life depends on it;

and, when the time comes to let it go,

to let it go.

~Mary Oliver

Grief is as common as the air we breathe. This past month has had a larger share of it, though, as we said a final farewell to our beloved Gwen Tuckman, and to a longtime friend of the congregation, Patricia Walker. These two women knew something about this dance with life, the necessity of loving what is mortal. They knew about holding what was precious to our bones and how essential it is to living well. Their love will continue to bless the world in more ways than we can count and those who knew them can count ourselves as lucky to have been touched by their lives.

Mary Oliver is right, though. What we love most is what is most tenuous in the world. It couldn’t be clearer than when we know grief. Yet life continues even after a death, even when the world seems bereft of joy. Days come and go, the seasons continue to turn, and we set foot after foot and carry on.

Letting go comes slowly, grief fades into sweet memories, and while the pain of loss never really goes away, it does soften as we release our grip.

As winter comes more fully into force, and the days darken, may we all be gentle with ourselves and make time for extra care. Could you use a little more quiet, perhaps, or some walks in places of beauty when the weather is fair, or maybe the nurture and pleasure of hearty soups and good conversation at a shared meal? Light a candle in the dark, and remember the light of dawn that does come eventually, and the turning toward the light begins soon.


Gentle blessings on you all,


Linda

  • "Mary Oliver is right, though. What we love most is what is most tenuous in the world. It couldn’t be clearer than when we know grief"