The Cherkewski View – Study

Back on the ice

Sun, 15 Feb 2026 18:50:00 -0500

The last few weeks have included a solid amount of skating. Not so much that I feel I fully wrung the Canal season’s potential, but enough that I feel satisfied, and won’t feel too poorly when it closes.

Out on the ice yesterday, I was struck by just how many people there were, particularly at the hub sites (like the first kilometre, nearest Parliament, or the rest areas at Fifth and Dow’s Lake). The density! The familiar thought experiment came to mind: how much space would you need to mass the same number of people if they were all in cars?

Not only were all these people massed and moving, they didn’t need formal rules or physical structure to constrain or shape their movement. Norms and attention are plenty enough. Skate to the right when you can, don’t cut folks off, and mind the people in front of you.

It reminded me of Adam Gopnik’s account of learning to drive later in life. One of his central observations was that driving is a deeply democratic act: identifying and moving into openings when they present themselves; yielding and giving space to enable others to do the same. And all this without much verbal communication.¹

I enjoy this when driving, but I enjoy it far more when skating, where the stakes feel lower and you live the joy of self-powered movement and the sun in your face.

Yesterday, I’m glad I fully lived that joy—and I look forward to next time, whether next week or next year.

All the best for the week ahead!

Lucas

On a tangent, I think of how low-resolution our on-road communication is. Turn signals, yes, headlights and a honk, sure. Other than that, there’s not much more than “Arturo’s all purpose hand”, as described by Gopnik: ‘the one that means “thank you,” “fuck you,” “who cares about you”—is the proper hand for a citizen. It broadcast civility, while keeping its private meanings to itself.’ ↩

Non-consuming consumption

Sun, 08 Feb 2026 15:25:00 -0500

I’ve caught myself a few times this week starting and ending the day with phone in hand, scrolling the screen. I’ve caught and challenged myself, asking, “is this really how you want to spend your time?”

Sure, I tend to be reading blogs and newsletters, not so much caught up by an algorithmic feed (though I do have a bad habit of compulsively loading news sites, even though I specifically subscribe to a physical paper to try to constrain how and when I read the news), so it’s easy to justify to myself that it’s “good scrolling”. It tickles something to fill my brain, but the act of digital consumption still isn’t that satisfying—I yearn for more tangible things.

This morning, happily, I kept the phone away, instead reading Sherlock Holmes. And it was good.

It was a reminder that, much fun as it may be to make things (woodworking, cooking, or so on) or go places (a spirited walk, a gallery, what have you) off-screen, consumption can be its own reward, and reading a book offers a non-digital form of consumption that isn’t so… consuming.

Years ago, I learned of Joan Didion’s “On Self Respect” via a post by Frank Chimero, who described it memorably as an essay that “smacked me on the back of the head at the right time”. Frank has taken that post down, so I’ll instead link to Maria Popova’s long quotation from Didion’s essay. As with Frank, reencountering Didion’s take on self respect has given me a much needed—much welcomed—smack in the head.
Doug Stowe blogs about making things with his hands, mostly out of wood. But he also writes about education. In “The 800 lb. sore thumb”, he integrates several quotations to argue the importance of both hand- and head-work, not only to our personal development, but to democracy itself.
Mita Williams shares her reasons for installing solar panels atop her garage. Among the many excellent reasons, Williams raises the heavy subsidies the Ontario government makes for our electricity rates: “The Ontario government will spend as much what it currents spends on all of its universities and colleges on subsidizing electricity costs for consumers, so we don’t notice anything [even as electricity rates increased by 29% in November].” The subsidy is one of those programs I periodically forget, then re-learn about, and every time it’s mind boggling. What a way to hide the true cost of energy production (and thus discourage rational economic decisions around both energy production and consumption).
As a guy who knows a thing or two about it, Stéphane Dion has warnings about Alberta’s secession rumblings.
What nineteenth-century cities can teach us about our own.
For any among you who went to a Canadian elementary school, prepare for a blast from the past in CBC’s profile of Scholastic.

All the best for the week ahead!

Lucas

Not away, but aside

Sun, 01 Feb 2026 14:50:00 -0500

Hello!

Living in a connected age means the pain and suffering of others, the cruelty so readily meted out, the obvious injustices perpetrated with little consequence, are regularly put before us. It feels, depending how you use the internet, inescapable.

And it hurts. Consider this, from Krista Tippett (“My heart is sore. Your heart is sore.”):

We are profoundly distressed, intimately and globally, at a nervous-system level — and this distress crosses every identity and dividing line. Opinion polls have their uses, I suppose. But they don’t unearth that, beneath whatever simplistic answer I give to a simplistic question, my heart is sore. Your heart is sore. We do not want to live in a world of rage and cruelty, one human being to another. We do not want to live in a world in which we scroll through videos of real people humiliated and dying at the hands of other real people, with these videos at our children’s fingertips too.

We can disagree on questions of rights and laws, and those questions have their place. But I’ll say it plain: whether a human being is a citizen or an immigrant, a neighbor or a stranger, does not have any bearing whatsoever on the moral and spiritual question of whether they are being treated with cruelty or humanity.

How, then, to deal with this hurt, this hurt so inextricably tied up in the news of the day? The solution may lay, in part, in stepping not away from it all, but to the side: reading and thinking not about the deluge of the day, but about past days that might offer lessons. Alan Jacobs (“reorientation”):

Instead, I’m making yet another argument for breaking bread with the dead. In times of social and political crisis, especially when new and often contradictory bulletins are arriving on our ICDs (Internet-Connected Devices) at a second-by-second rate, you and I need to step back. We need the relief. But at the same time, it is impossible, for me anyway, not to think about what’s happening. Just saying “I’m not going to read any more about this” is an inadequate response; it has a tendency to leave me fretful and at loose ends.

What helps is to read works from the past that deal with questions and challenges that are structurally similar to the ones we’re facing but that emerged in a wholly different context.

And, to return to Krista Tippett’s piece, another helpful reminder:

I am hearing a thousand stories that are not making the “news” as I’m trying to follow it, but they too are the story of our time, and they are stories of what makes us human and humane.

Here’s to the human and humane.

Some links:

Some people have a way of writing that fundamentally shifts your understanding. Deb Chachra is one such writer for me. Her exposition of “the matter problem” as a counterpart to “the energy problem” was eye-opening—as we move toward cheap, abundant, clean energy, will we use it to rectify all the trash and other material waste we produce? (via Mita Williams)
An excellent (excellent) example of input on legislative changes by Jennifer Robson on CRA’s proposed “automatic benefits” mechanism (deemed tax filing), with attention not only to the policy intent, but also the implementation details. Essential reading for anyone wondering how policy and implementation (which, these days, often means software) are so inextricably linked.
Thoroughly enjoyed this brief history of late 19th century American municipal governance, and cases from two states in which municipal government was deemed illegal! It’s used to illustrate where judicial intervention is effective (government, stop doing this illegal thing) versus not (government, stop doing this illegal thing, but also it’s an essential thing, so don’t actually stop it, but instead make a new thing—which the courts are not well suited to direct or supervise). (via SB)
How is Italy fighting Mafia corruption in the Olympics? Why, transparency in government contracting, how else?
As a dabbling furniture designer and woodworker, I’ve learned that measurement isn’t all it’s made out to be—often, you can be far more precise without measurements past a certain point in the construction process. How? With basic, ancient tools, like a straightedge and dividers.

All the best for the week ahead!

Lucas

Movers are worth it

Sun, 25 Jan 2026 15:50:00 -0500

Yesterday, T and I bought a barely used couch for a great deal—no regrets. We then proceeded to move it ourselves—some regrets. But, it also gave us some laughs and a great story—and a strengthened resolve to hire movers whenever we’ve got big, heavy, bulky moves.

Heading skating shortly with friends, so on to the links!

I didn’t have a strong definition of “tenure” in my head before Alex Usher broke it into three varieties: academic freedom, job protection despite poor performance, and job protection despite institutional financial crisis. As always, strong definitions help us be clearer about what we’re proposing or debating.
Really enjoyed Lorin Hochstein’s discussion of how difficult coordination is, and how so many things that are billed as “not work” or “not productive” (meetings, duplicative effort, siloes, etc) are the hard but necessary side effect of coordination work. (I also appreciate the connection to glue work, and the clear position that this work is essential and worth doing well.)
Mandy Brown with what we (I, and maybe you) may need this time of year: a gentle nudge in favour of habits over streaks, an embrace of doing good things regularly, but not at the expense of rest.

All the best for the week ahead!

Lucas

Let’s learn some cool things

Sun, 18 Jan 2026 20:25:00 -0500

Hullo!

I spent much of the day at Ottawa City Woodshop, finishing a side table build. They moved to a new space late last year, and it’s spectacular—there’s a separate, upstairs room for hand tool work, with wooden floors, high ceilings, and big windows. I’m not sure which of those I love most. (While light is important, never underestimate the feeling of a good floor!)

Anyway. It was great to be back, but I’m wiped from a full day of woodworking and a few nights of poor sleep. Straight to the links, then:

I love Winnie Lim’s reflection on getting better at the skill of learning, and how physical stamina is also important for enabling our brains. Relatedly, on learning, Nicky Case’s “How To Remember Anything Forever-ish” remains a fundamental piece for me—spaced repetition is such fun (lol, nerd), I genuinely enjoy opening Anki and working through the day’s stack.¹ Anyway, here’s to a love of learning.
Anil Dash wrote an epic history and cultural analysis of Markdown. Even if you don’t know what Markdown is (it’s a set of text conventions for formatting writing), you can intuit its meaning just by reading it—brilliant.
Jeremy Keith’s telling of the three-day workweek sounds very appealing.
Ben Werdmuller imagines the “Zurich Protocol”, an anti-censorship mechanism for global newsrooms. And he does it by writing a story—an under appreciated format for sharing new ideas.
Christoffer Stjernlöf (kqr) writes in praise of keeping a slide rule in your kitchen, which: a) blew my mind; b) sent me down a delightful slide rule rabbit hole (I can see it being quite useful for furniture design and woodworking, with its ability to easily work proportions). That brought me to Eric’s Slide Rule Site (a .ca domain, go Eric Marcotte!), one of those delightful early-web sites that’s been maintained essentially untouched.
Epic video showing how a (quality) book is printed and bound. Those guillotine cutters are awesome / terrifying.
Oh, a 7,000-year-old wall buried underwater off the coast of France? Hell yeah.
If you’re looking for a book recommendation in these slow, quiet winter months, I’ll re-up my recommendation for Sam Wilket’s newsletter Forests in Her Mind. Sam recommends Dawn, by Octavia E. Butler, in her latest issue, which I picked up last weekend and am looking forward to enjoying.

All the best for the week ahead!

Lucas

Part of my love for Anki, I think, is that it gives you the lightest elements of gamification (here’s a queue of tasks to work through, you can feel yourself getting better at them as they come and go!) without the worst parts of it. Crucially: Anki has no social features, and there’s no “streak” to speak of; if you skip a day, it presents you your modified stack without judgement, and on you go. ↩

Advertising done right

Sun, 11 Jan 2026 19:55:00 -0500

Vacuuming yesterday, I listened to Krista Tippett’s On Being conversation with Oliver Burkeman (as one does). It meanders delightfully, but touches at one point on the attention economy, how time spent on and around social media shapes not just the time spent there, but time later (as we think about what we’ve been exposed to, fit our thoughts or photos to the formats of these platforms, and so on).

Burkeman made the oft-raised point that these sites’ business models depend, first and foremost, upon your keeping your attention there. This made me think about advertising, both direct and indirect (indirect meaning the vast data broker economy, meant to make it possible to micro-target offerings to specific individuals, among other more worrying activities).

On Thursday night, I saw A Face in the Crowd with REEL Politics. It’s a film about many things, but of note for today is that it portrays both the on- and off-air world of 1950s TV advertising, a world where variety shows are interrupted for “a word from our sponsor”, when the host proudly downs a pill or sleeps on a mattress while reading from an approved script. Andy Griffith’s character doesn’t quite follow those scripts, and he’s a little too honest about the mattresses. This, you get the sense, was not par for the course in 1950s TV advertising.

Think instead of the ads you hear on some podcasts today. In some, the show cuts away to a recorded ad. In others, the host talks through a product’s virtues, maybe affirming that they themselves use and recommend the product. Paul Wells cited this need to be “[the advertiser’s] pitchman” when describing why he shied away from advertising, part of the reason he stopped regular production of The Paul Wells Show.

While TV and podcast ads are personalized in that they’re legitimized by the person delivering them, they’re generally not specific to you, the receiver, other than your interest in whatever TV program or podcast they’re on.

There’s been some wondering—though, classic, I struggle to find any good links in my feeds—about the inevitability of LLM providers introducing advertising to their products.

The lack of ads has been one of the high points in my occasional usage. Though I’m almost always running an adblocker anyway, the simple page design of an LLM response is refreshing in contrast to the busy design of many sites on the web. My most common use for LLMs (aside from coding) is when cooking: here are some ingredients, give me a few recipe options; handily, LLMs also offer options depending on your preferences. In contrast to recipe sites, which often wend their way through narrative with the goal of working a few affiliate links in, the few clear paragraphs and line items of an LLM response are a breath of fresh air.

It’s notable that these tools all do have some form of pricing, but the consumer model on the web still seems to favour “free, and sure, chuck some ads in my way”, and I’m not sure the companies behind these tools will resist those market forces. No doubt these ads will themselves be generated by LLMs—how else to make them as “personalized” as possible!?

I’ve resisted paying for LLMs so far—partly out of frugality, mostly out of principle—and am glad that there remains an ad-free alternative to my described use of LLMs: the cookbook. I made the excellent pancakes recipe from The Art of Simple Food, which already includes options based on what’s at hand. Other cookbooks I like in that spirit include The Everlasting Meal Cookbook and The Flavor Thesaurus, which inspire you to think in terms of the ingredients on hand.

I’ll end this by saying I don’t even think advertising is bad. I just think that data-driven, hyper-targeted advertising is hugely overrated. I don’t want it to be about me—I want it to be about the product.

It’s easy to advertise to me (my credit card statements would confirm it): make a product good enough for Lee Valley to carry it, and I’ll see it as soon as they add it to their online catalogue. (I’m sure some webmaster over on Morrison Drive scratches their head at the IP address that loads the “all new products” page multiple times a day.) Or it’ll appear in the epic Fine Woodworking Tools Catalog, and I’ll happily flip through it between tasks in the shop (perhaps the finest form of browsing).

This, to me, is the crux of good advertising: domain-specific (whatever you’re in to, be it woodworking, cooking, craft, etc), and written by people who actually know the products they’re selling. That’s advertising for which I’d sign up my attention.

This newsletter remains proudly ad-free. On to the links!

Two heavier ones:

The news this week was decidedly awful. On the shooting of Renee Good in Minneapolis, I thought long and hard about John Gruber’s post about the bravery of bystander Caitlin Callenson, to keep filming (and move closer) even as a shooting unfolded in front of her.
The power and impunity of the US extend well beyond its borders, as shown by the experience of sanctioned International Criminal Court justices. (via SB)

Some lighter ones:

Dave Rupert writes about CSS’s new contrast-color() function that, given a colour input, returns white or black as the most accessible contrast colour (for, e.g., text over a background). He’s continued writing about it since—examples of modern CSS are absolutely wild to me, remembering as I do creating gradients and rounded corners with carefully placed… images.
I only just learned about Library and Archives Canada’s completed ATI requests database, via Dean Beeby who provides some background on the tool. (In the GC, only LAC can do this easily, because historical documents are excluded from Official Languages Act requirements.) For one random fun find, see the circa 2005 TBS PowerPoint on spending restraint in the first few pages of A-2022-11055—so familiar, twenty years on!
Paul Wells spoke with the ever delightful Stéphane Dion about the 2025/2026 flavours of sovereignty wars. Fellow Canadian politics nerds, let us never forget Dion’s “proportional-preferential-personalized” (“P3”) proposal for electoral reform (also available in archived form from Dion’s blog), iconic enough to be satirized by The Beaverton as “that dope ass one Stephane Dion likes”.
Doug Wilson’s Linotype Book Project has been a delight to follow these past few years; the most recent issue covered his research at the Smithsonian. Perhaps unsurprisingly, Wilson also has some great typography and design writing on his personal site.

All the best for the week ahead!

Lucas

Decently good cheer

Sun, 04 Jan 2026 20:03:40 -0500

Hoo boy, hello! I did it again, dear reader—leaving the newsletter to the end of a day, growing increasingly stressed as I knew I had something to do while pushing on with yet other things. Ah well.

It was a stark contrast to yesterday, which was spent entirely relaxed, out and about with T. First to Chelsea, for some coffee and bread. (The bread ended up being… smoked!? I still don’t know how I feel about it.) Then to the Boucher Forest park, a park with a great set of trails in Gatineau (yes, there are large wooded parks other than Gatineau Park on the other side of the river!) and the nearby Éco des champs farm, which was delightfully empty save for the various animals. (They have a “trust market” system by which you can purchase various goods and admission. The most wholesome, lovely spirit—hoorah for that!) And, finally, to a wonderful dinner out.

Otherwise, to hold onto these various feelings of decently good cheer, I’m studiously avoiding the news (as best one can—it’s hard not to hear about the things going on, ranging as they do from silly to terrible).

How do you get from a digital camera’s sensor to a photo you can see? A very practical, easy to visualize explanation of what “processing” really means for digital photography, and how “unedited” is hardly what it sounds like. (via Bill Mill)
Dan Bouk’s 2023 review of There Are No Accidents showed up in a few of my feeds in the last few days, thanks I think to Mita Williams. Captures the book’s essence well, drawing me to read it—what more could you ask!?
A great discussion of how, though reported as a single figure, inflation is actually numerous different changes in price levels, and the greater the change, the greater the dispersion in outcomes (some products increase more than the average amount, some less)—which has a bunch of knock-on effects both individually and systemically.
That reminded me of the Statistics Canada “personal inflation calculator”, which allows you to calculate your own inflation rate, based on your actual expenses (instead of the generic basket used for headline inflation). (I just input my rough numbers using last year’s expenses, and it seems my personal inflation rate was generally lower than headline inflation until January 2023; since then, it’s run 1–2 percentage points higher. Now I’m curious to calculate how my basket compares to the normal CPI basket!)
I was up and down with some holiday sickness in recent weeks, so Erin Boyle’s reminder to do something slow and small with your hands when sick was very welcome.
I’ve never really been one to decorate seasonally. (Nor one to decorate much at all.) But this post put into words what I’ve felt felt in spaces where people decorate seasonally: there’s a life to those homes, a sense of novelty worth creating.
For those making various goals for the year, consider Nicky Case’s motivation technique of “drawing lines on a graph”. (Case’s “30 tips for my 13-year-old self” are also worth a read!)
Good profile of Molly Gregory, a singular woodworker and teacher—the Black Mountain College years are particularly inspiring.
Very wholesome story of Ottawa’s “Golden Girls”, the remaining two of three friends who moved in together twenty years ago.
Enjoyed living vicariously through Sameer’s “moments of joy” from 2025.

All the best for the week ahead!

Lucas

I didn’t forget about you

Sun, 28 Dec 2025 22:01:20 -0500

As I prepared to brush my teeth, I suddenly gasped. T, from the other room, asked what was wrong. “It’s Sunday and I haven’t sent my newsletter yet!”

Oh, time off. I’ve only the vaguest grasp remaining on the days of the week, nearly missing sending this as a result.

In the last or second-last issue of each year, I try to recommend some books I’ve read in the past twelve months. This year, I didn’t read nearly as much—been a bit all over the place, and reading hasn’t been the main way I’ve passed the time.

A few do come to mind, though:

Menewood by Nicola Griffith: I mentioned it as a “looking forward to this” in last year’s year-end issue, and, dear reader, I actually followed through. An excellent sequel to an already beloved book. May just reread them both this year.
Mortise and Tenon magazine: Each issue is basically a book, and I’ve been steadily acquiring back issues with articles of particular interest. They’ve been a delight to read, and are really about craft—so much more than just woodworking. I especially love the articles by their research grant recipients, the product of a bit of material support to dive deep into a subject of interest. (Their tenth anniversary “Issue X” is particularly epic; I recommend it. If in Canada, Lee Valley has it in stock, no need for import duties or expensive shipping.)
Things Become Other Things by Craig Mod: I didn’t fully read TBOT this year, but have enjoyed reading about it through Craig’s various newsletters. Craig’s energy and perspective always makes for a good read.
Consolations by David Whyte: An excellent book of “is it prose or is it poetry” to keep at the bedside.

2025 has been quite a year. Not so sad to see it go, other than how easy math has been with a nice “round” number like 25.

I’m closing out this last Hit and Miss of the year after a week with loved ones, sitting now in bed with three particularly loved ones close at hand—Pema in my lap, Arthur at my feet, and T at my side. I hope you’ve also had, or are soon to have, some time with loved ones.

2026 will, I think, also be quite a year, but for very different reasons—ones I’m deeply grateful, glad, and excited for. May you also have some great things to look forward to. Thank you, always, for reading my writing here. All the best for the week, and year, ahead!

Lucas

“Call it whatever you want!”

Sun, 21 Dec 2025 17:10:00 -0500

Hello!

Afraid I’ve fallen fully into the holiday lethargy. My logistical capacity feels shot, just when it’s being called for (allllll the family events to plan around!); I’m still not even sure today’s Sunday, but that’s what the clock says, so I’ll play along.

Despite the lethargy, good—great!—things are afoot. After a hard 2025, there will be some bright spots in the year ahead. Even if the year brings unforeseen challenges (as many of this year’s challenges were), the foundations to weather them are firmly in place.

Recommended writing (okay, evergreen category, but you know what I mean):

I’ve been enjoying this year’s run of I thought about that a lot, an advent calendar of essays.
Sara Hendren reflected on 2025 in a series of vignettes.
Deb Chachra recently sent out a “hello again” issue of Metafoundry, which is worth subscribing to if you like anything at the intersection of “infrastructure, technology, culture, design, education, and more” (you’re here, so probably?).

Art and stuff:

Love a roundup of “creative things” that leans heavily toward typography, as with “BTW № 4: People Make Amazing Things Edition” by Jason Santa Maria.
Lovely reflections on a unique bench finding its home at the Museum of Fine Arts Boston, with lessons on craft passed down to and from one of its makers, Peter Galbert.
Speaking of galleries, the National Gallery has two exhibitions on right now that seem well worth a visit: Camera and the City and Winter Count: Embracing the Cold. While there, maybe check out one of my favourite works, The Smiths by W. Blair Bruce. (Clicking around the digital collection, I’m now also intrigued by Murder among the Wheels by Homer Watson.)

Specific reflections:

Ken Whyte’s most recent issue of SHuSH (the house newsletter of Sutherland House) is all about the tired, unrealized potential of all these services meant to make life more convenient—but really, it’s about the pains of fitting your life and work to the service’s model thereof, where you only realize the “benefits” if you fully fit yourself to what it expects. And then so few of these services really talk to one another!
Ava wrote about how disability and chronic illness can reshape thinking about retirement, increasing appreciation for whatever’s good in life right now.
Alex, with a fun application of a research paper to a Statistics Canada press release about homicide rates—comparing change from year to year is not as straightforward as you’d think!

And, finally, I put the finishing touches on this year’s Christmas gifts while listening to the Parliamentary Press Gallery Dinner speeches—grateful to CPAC for recording and hosting the important videos like these (I think Don Davies gets my vote for the highest “funny to time” ratio).

All the best for the week ahead!

Lucas

P.S. Today’s title is courtesy of T, who, as I despaired that I was ready to send the newsletter but for a good title, encouragingly said she always likes my newsletter titles. Then, after a pause, said “Call it whatever you want!” before cheerily bouncing away to eat fruit.

Some poems

Sun, 14 Dec 2025 20:50:00 -0500

Hi there. Been a rough week, I think it’s fair to say. With much of that squarely at my feet.

There’ve been quite a number of links read this past week, but, instead, I’ll share some poems.

“Dust of Snow”, by Robert Frost

The way a crow
Shook down on me
The dust of snow
From a hemlock tree

Has given my heart
A change of mood
And saved some part
Of a day I had rued.

“Make the Ordinary Come Alive”, by William Martin

Do not ask your children
to strive for extraordinary lives.
Such striving may seem admirable,
but it is the way of foolishness.
Help them instead to find the wonder
and the marvel of an ordinary life.
Show them the joy of tasting
tomatoes, apples, and pears.
Show them how to cry
when pets and people die.
Show them the infinite pleasure
in the touch of a hand.
And make the ordinary come alive for them.
The extraordinary will take care of itself.

(via Sameer)

“Let This Darkness Be a Bell Tower”, by Rainer Maria Rilke (translated by Joanna Macy)

Quiet friend who has come so far,

feel how your breathing makes more space around you.
Let this darkness be a bell tower
and you the bell. As you ring,

what batters you becomes your strength.
Move back and forth into the change.
What is it like, such intensity of pain?
If the drink is bitter, turn yourself to wine.

In this uncontainable night,
be the mystery at the crossroads of your senses,
the meaning discovered there.

And if the world has ceased to hear you,
say to the silent earth: I flow.
To the rushing water, speak: I am.

(via Krista Tippet of On Being)

“Wild Geese”, by Mary Oliver

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting —
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

I wrote about that last poem almost seven years ago today, after a striking experience. Tonight, I walked in the same park, letting myself listen to the great stillness of snow, snow everywhere, snow on the ground and on a rapidly freezing river. It remains one of my favourite poems, one that I have quite literally taken to heart.

All the best for the week ahead.

Lucas