Open Hearts, Propped Open Hearts and Outrage Fatigue
A few random thoughts have been rattling around the aging brain... Propped Open Hearts: (This has a religious bend to it. ) I'm a fan of Maria Shriver's Sunday Paper , as previously noted here. She ends each post with a prayer, and this was last Sunday's: Dear God, this world is filled with so many people and so much good, yet it’s easy to slip into the feeling that I’m all alone. Help me remember that I am not alone. Help me remember that there are people who care. Help me to be a beacon of light and understanding for others as well. Amen. Something I've been having internal conversations about is my ability--or rather, self-perceived lack of ability--to formulate prayer. Reading this one by Ms Shriver, who is a journalist I had to remind myself, hammered that home again. My verbal prayers tend toward the formulaic and ritualistic, as in the Hail Mary, Our Father and I find great comfort in those. I've decided that prayers ...