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Tag: Carla Camerieri

Parable in a Glass: Elevation

Parable in a Glass: Elevation

I find that I often struggle with the idea of non-attachment and how to find a way to practice it in my everyday life. I bought a pair of Frye boots recently that are nothing short of amazing. They are a beautiful oxblood color with a really cool zipper on the side, and they fit me perfectly. And what makes them even more wonderful is that I got them for a fantastic price! This feels like true love, and I’m certain of our future together. Does that mean that I’m attached to them? More

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Friday Musings: With Deeper Thanks (Part 2)

Friday Musings: With Deeper Thanks (Part 2)

I’ve often considered gratitude to be a unique emotion. I thought it was because it was something that we could both perceive and express in the sense that we can feel thankful and we can say thank you. I wrote a post about that very idea, in fact, about 18 months ago and I reprised it back at the beginning of May. But gratitude is not the only emotion that can be both felt and expressed. Pain is that way; after all, we can feel hurt and we can hurt others. And love is certainly that way, so gratitude’s sense of uniqueness for me cannot really be found in the give and take aspect of it. I know that I think about gratitude a lot these days because I have been blessed with so much that is good, especially in the last year, and because I have learned that approaching each day from the perspective of being thankful can truly be life-changing. But what is it that makes me want to know so much more? I decided to do some research and I discovered that gratitude is what experts call a social emotion in that it forces us out of our own heads, even if just momentarily. It almost always involves another human being who has done something wonderful for us. We feel a wave of thankfulness wash over us that can be big enough to almost knock us off our feet. Sometimes we see the wave coming. It’s our birthday and we are enveloped in celebration and we are grateful. Other times it may be something unexpected that happens, like a random act of kindness extended by a stranger, or a sweet gesture from someone who loves us enough to know it was just what we needed. Even when we are thankful for something that is non-human like a house, or a job, or a situation, we express our thanks to some agent of giving outside of ourselves, like fate or God or the universe.

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Poetry in a Glass: The Doorway Into Thanks

Poetry in a Glass: The Doorway Into Thanks

I’ve written about the ideas of mindfulness and gratitude a number of times on this blog, but since we’re a few days away from a national holiday that celebrates being thankful, I thought it wouldn’t hurt to to look at a poem from Mary Oliver that examines both. Oliver is an American poet born in 1935 who has won both the Pulitzer and the National Book Award. She writes in the Romantic style and her poems focus on the natural world as an evocation of what we feel as

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Friday Musings: All Things Scientific

Friday Musings: All Things Scientific

Many of you who read me regularly know that I was lucky enough to have had my parents until they were in their eighties and since they lived only three doors away from me, I saw them on almost a daily basis. It was so wonderful to have had their help as I was raising my kids, not just in practical ways like babysitting or an extra set of hands, but for their experience, guidance, and wisdom when it came to all matters of life. My father had such funny maxims that he would

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Poetry in a Glass: A Carefully Loaded Ship

Poetry in a Glass: A Carefully Loaded Ship

Antoine de Saint-Exupéry wrote The Little Prince, a sweetly sentimental novella deemed by The New Yorker Magazine to be “a seminal text for the sixties generation of dropouts and flower children.” That’s not exactly high praise for an author’s best known work, but I know that if I confess that I thoroughly enjoyed The Little Prince and that I cried at the end of it, I would not be alone in that admission. Although Saint-Exupéry was in Paris at the same time as Hemingway,

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