Thursday, September 27, 2012

Read Elsewhere: Lovers Vs. Fighters; They Grow Up; Cell Phones

A smattering of interesting tidbits seen and heard lately:

:: From "I'm a Lover, Not a Fighter" by Shauna Niequist:

"I know that controversy is currency. But I think it’s worth asking about who you’re taking down, in the hopes that your snark and wit will go viral. I think it's worth asking about what happens over time to your insides when you decide to be a hater, when you decide to be the police of the internet, crusading for something or other.

There are enough haters. There always will be.

And right at the same time, there will always be enough beauty, enough hope, enough good, if we decide to be people who are always on the lookout for it. I want to use my voice to bring light and hope and beauty. I want to search for what’s good, and shout about that.

When I get all wound up--when someone trashes someone I love and I want to get into the fight, when I disagree so vehemently that I want to use all caps to illustrate my point, when someone's political views make me insane, I remember my rule, that I've committed to love, to being a voice for love and goodness.

It's especially hard work during election season, but if we're going to make it through the fall with relationships intact, maybe we should all think about being lovers instead of fighters."

:: From All & Sundry's "It All Vanishes:"

"I finished Rick Bragg’s The Prince of Frogtown last night. It’s a memoir inspired by Bragg’s relationship with his ten-year-old stepson, and towards the end, he writes,
The little boy started to fade, just like we left him in the sun too long. (…) He had been a ragamuffin, hurled into space by the seat of his pants. Suddenly, he shopped for shirts, and worried about his hair. He got too heavy to throw. (…) He turned twelve, then thirteen, and then the little boy just disappeared.
Just when you start to get used to it, to not minding it so much, it all vanishes, and the little boy you launched in the air stands at your shoulders like a man, and when you turn to say something you find yourself looking right into his eyes.He is not helpless, not needy.He is everything I rushed him to be.

Do you know how sometimes you read something, and it’s like the air in the room grows heavy? Like something you can touch, like you’re held fast by the words. I felt that way, last night. My god."
:: Moosh In Indy's "She Said: Kids and Cell Phones:"
"Oh, our generation is going to be a rich one when it comes to such arguments. Gone are the “I walked uphill to school both ways in six feet of snow with no shoes” arguments and here are the  “I made it to a job interview without google maps, turn by turn directions or a phone in my pocket, in my day, if we told someone we were going to be somewhere, WE SHOWED UP!”"

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