Two years ago I was emotionally pessimistic, but intellectually thought the world was going to be ok. Now I'm in a better place and ready to be optimistic, but I'm still so confused by the changes in my life and the world that I haven't figured out what optimism would be.
This week I went to an author's reading by Jennifer Finney Boylan. We sat in the pews in the church at Bryn Mawr listening while she read three stories from her writing. Somehow, even though it wasn't religious, it seemed fitting for her to read to us from the pulpit. Maybe any words that are true, sincere, and personal belong there.
There's a man who sometimes wanders the streets in my neighborhood, shouting "Blat! Blat! Blat!" and pointing dramatically at the horizon. Most people pointedly ignore him, some people seem uncomfortable, and I've even heard a few people angrily yell back at him. I don't know whether I'm more curious about the feeling he's expressing or by the feelings everyone else are trying not to.
I think stories about the particular are at least as important to us as theories of everything. The world might be a huge, connected whole, but I can only ever start to grasp it through specific things. Share your stories with others, especially the small ones.