Busyness
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For months, I’ve carried the call of the Sandhill Cranes in my heart. They were passing over my home on an early Saturday morning as I was leaving to proctor the SATs at my high school. It was a divine interruption – a hard stop on the feverish rush of modern life. Since then, I’ve
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Over the summer, we experienced a substantial lack of rain. Now this isn’t England, but Grove City usually has its share of rainy days. We savor the sunny ones as they seem to be as rare as European White Truffles. And yet, I was far too busy to notice. As the summer came to a
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Missing in action. That’s how I’ve felt, creatively (and emotionally), for the past two months. Little time to pay attention. Little time to be astonished. Little time to tell about it. I’ve failed to live by Mary Oliver’s instructions for living a life. Fall has always been a season brimming with activity: school starts, I
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“If we had a keen vision of all ordinary human life, it would be like hearing the grass grow or the squirrel’s heart beat, and we should die of the roar which lies on the other side of silence. As it is, the quickest of us walk about well-wadded with stupidity.” George Eliot Meditations on
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Advent: December 10 By Vincent H. Anastasi 2022 Sometimes the business of living robs the season of its sacred joy: Time’s teeming expectancy like children counting the days.
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Advent: December 3 By Vincent H. Anastasi 2022 Beneath the bustle the ebb and flow of life’s tides the modern worship of wealth and power and things my manger heart cradles peace.
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Fall and Mary Oliver today. From a wonderful collection of poetry titled Why I Wake Early. Admittedly, waking early isn’t in my vocabulary, save for the demand my job puts upon me as a high school English teacher. But for sights such as these, I would race the sun out of bed, “[t]o love what
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As I hinted in my last post, I had an unforeseen trip to the optometrist last Wednesday. What I initially thought was a pernicious eyelash playing hide-and-seek beneath my eyelid ended up being a two-day ordeal that led to the removal of a minuscule calcification that had been abrading my cornea. And though I can’t
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I admit that I don’t handle myself nor others well when I’m frustrated, tired, or just haven’t taken some time to feed my soul. I feel guilty, honestly, when I take the time to sit down and write poetry, let alone create these posts, when I have six children, a wife, a job, and many
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At this moment, I am sitting on the back porch of our rental looking out over Lake Chautauqua as the sun sets. (I’ll include a photo at the end of the post.) My dearest love of 25 years sits by my side, quietly reading. WE HAVE ESCAPED! For four days and three nights we have
the deepening ground 