tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610041228280605242011-11-27T19:54:14.537-06:00"One joy scatters a hundred griefs." - Chinese proverbL.A. Piercehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02374404723725518444noreply@blogger.comBlogger151100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-361004122828060524.post-22231700556169438952009-09-24T22:47:00.005-05:002009-09-24T23:15:42.004-05:00

We tend to think of joy as something that happens to us . . . if we're lucky. But often, joy is something we do.There are times in our lives when it feels like the sky is falling, when bad news is coming at us from every direction. These times can feel joyless, which becomes its own sort of bad news, compounding the pain we are already experiencing. Our despair becomes its own downward spiral. At

L.A. Piercehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02374404723725518444noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-361004122828060524.post-89617239150023384892009-07-13T22:51:00.015-05:002009-09-24T23:23:10.841-05:00

Just over two weeks ago, I had the rare opportunity to realize a dream that was more than a quarter of a century in the making. In celebration of my 40th birthday, I spent a day at the Championships at the All England Lawn and Tennis Club . . . a day at Wimbledon during the world's most famed fortnight of tennis.I fell in love with tennis and with the traditions of Wimbledon when I was fourteen

L.A. Piercehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02374404723725518444noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-361004122828060524.post-60019944600948647012009-03-31T21:15:00.000-05:002009-03-31T22:12:57.278-05:00

Joy and pain are often two sides of the same coin. They go together like love and grief, like laughter and tears.My most immediate experience of this truth is the fact that I have two homes: one with my partner and friends in Minnesota, and one with my parents and siblings in ColoradoClearly, there is joy in this. I move between two wonderful communities set in two beautiful places. More

L.A. Piercehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02374404723725518444noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-361004122828060524.post-7271639601125719412009-03-27T00:29:00.000-05:002009-03-27T00:40:47.721-05:00

Before he retired, my father was the head custodian at our local high school. This afforded us many benefits, not the least of which were shelter, food, and education. But one of the benefits I most appreciated as a child was the 6 a.m. phone call. A 6 a.m. phone call during the school year meant one thing and one thing only: the superintendent was calling Dad about closing school for a snow day.

L.A. Piercehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02374404723725518444noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-361004122828060524.post-82820042361557261902009-03-24T22:05:00.001-05:002009-03-24T22:05:48.880-05:00

The poet May Sarton once wrote, "It is harder to see what one sees / Than anyone knows." We are hardly capable of taking in, much less understanding, the immense beauty that is this world we live in. Yet Sarton also wrote of Monet, who spent a lifetime recognizing that beauty ("undazzling the light," she wrote) and presenting it in a new way, for all to see.Maybe joy is like beauty: all around us

L.A. Piercehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02374404723725518444noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-361004122828060524.post-82973299165635105822009-03-21T23:54:00.002-05:002009-07-14T01:08:39.752-05:00

In the end we all die, and along our way we struggle with loss and change. All that we know will fade.What, you may be asking yourself, does that have to do with joy?Everything. There is only this moment, and though it is both shadowed and foreshadowed by grief, it belongs to joy. It belongs to our hopeful, faithful, loving insistence that grief is not the whole of us.-- Post From My iPhone,

L.A. Piercehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02374404723725518444noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-361004122828060524.post-70578336367537244112009-03-20T15:38:00.001-05:002009-07-14T01:14:51.061-05:00

Perhaps it is no surprise that I postpone blogging on Joy Scatters. I am, afterall, well-practiced at postponing joy. Today, however, is the first day of Spring. Thing is, you can't postpone Spring, and that is its own sort of joy.Granted, in Minnesota, the first day of Spring is something of an exercise in semantics. It snowed this morning in Saint Paul. There are no Spring flowers yet, no

L.A. Piercehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02374404723725518444noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-361004122828060524.post-57021016869187593642008-11-21T09:07:00.004-06:002008-11-21T09:43:41.506-06:00

Vocation has mystified me most of my adult life. I've spent a great deal of energy trying to figure out "the right path." Letting go of the notion that there is one right path has been unexpectedly liberating. Instead of focusing on the paths that have closed to me, I can look out over the possibilities and be grateful for God's many and varied gifts.Of course, this leaves me with the work of

L.A. Piercehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02374404723725518444noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-361004122828060524.post-13282314945698381122008-11-18T16:20:00.007-06:002009-07-14T01:13:44.807-05:00

Sunday night I sat around a table eating dinner with other members of my very small Mennonite congregation. We were gathered to eat and speak with a visitor from our conference--a conference with whom we have had a very difficult relationship over the past fifteen years.Our congregation welcomes the full participation of lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender members. This--not surprisingly--

L.A. Piercehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02374404723725518444noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-361004122828060524.post-65843804833339628122008-11-14T13:36:00.006-06:002008-11-14T14:49:01.991-06:00

In Scarred by Struggle, Transformed by Hope, Joan Chittister writes briefly about "spiritual indifference," a virtue extolled by ancient Christian mystics and teachers such as Clement of Alexandria, Meister Eckhart, and Ignatius of Loyola. In our modern world, it is difficult to hear this phrase without assigning it a meaning of emotional disassociation--something we rightly associate with poor

L.A. Piercehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02374404723725518444noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-361004122828060524.post-45166942147731035772008-11-11T13:39:00.002-06:002008-11-11T14:09:37.820-06:00

You must have thought I disappeared on you! Sorry for my long absence. I'm happy to tell you there has been no shortage of joy since I saw you last. I hope that is equally true for you.One of the great joys of my life is Karen, my partner. She is recovering from an outpatient surgery she endured last week (one of the many reasons I'm behind in my blogging). All went well with her surgery and she

L.A. Piercehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02374404723725518444noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-361004122828060524.post-40530291924137502832008-10-13T13:23:00.007-05:002008-11-21T09:46:04.267-06:00

Some poets are better off happy than sad--at least according to The Danish Poet, a film by Torill Kove, narrated by Liv Ullman. I've fallen in love with this animated short. The imagery, narration, and screenplay are beautiful pieces of art, each on its own terms. Together they are delightful and provoke--in me, at least--wonder, laughter, and joy. This is no small accomplishment since much of

L.A. Piercehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02374404723725518444noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-361004122828060524.post-91113148244130567352008-10-10T09:39:00.009-05:002008-10-10T11:06:35.758-05:00

Synchronicity is mystifying. Yesterday, several coincidences occurred that caused me to pause and reflect. Throughout the day, I found myself reminded of the value and importance of wholeness and integrity in my life. It became a sort of leitmotif that felt like a gentle prodding to see connections, honor them, reach toward them.A friend asked me about an old poem of mine. I didn't even recognize

L.A. Piercehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02374404723725518444noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-361004122828060524.post-69584927945114584692008-10-09T09:50:00.005-05:002009-07-14T01:11:01.521-05:00

There is something magical about the fall: the angle of the sunlight, the warm colors, the sound of crisp leaves blowing down the road, that deeply ingrained sense of new beginning. But to be honest, even though I love the fall, it is a time of great struggle for me. The waning of the light is difficult and I sometimes find myself spending too much time anticipating the difficult winter ahead and

L.A. Piercehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02374404723725518444noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-361004122828060524.post-768364947840659472008-10-08T14:06:00.005-05:002008-11-21T09:46:38.487-06:00

The Chinese say, "One joy scatters a hundred griefs." This truth rises up out of our human experiences. But I have found it difficult to maintain an awareness about the importance of joy in my life. Depression and anxiety have a way of crowding out even the most basic truths. I want to nurture a mindfulness about joy, a commitment to joy.This blog is my effort to embrace la joie de vivre. I will

L.A. Piercehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02374404723725518444noreply@blogger.com2