Dangerous Compassions

memento mori

This ATC is for a Halloween swap-bot assignment.  I’m really grateful I signed up for it.  Never knew I could do like this.  It’s blue, says memento mori, and depicts a bird skeleton.

death atc


I have a new favorite Dorothy Day quote.  She co-started the Catholic Worker movement in 1933.  I live in community at Las Vegas Catholic Worker.

“Don’t worry about being effective. Just concentrate on being faithful to the truth.”–Dorothy Day

I love it because it smartly comforts me.  It’s easy to get discouraged.  Holding signs, protesting at an Air Force Base, risking arrest at the Test Site.  I ask myself a lot, what are the best ways to help?  Agonizing is energy-consuming.  Better to try something, with my heart immersed in Truth, than to theorize myself into inaction.

It reminds me of the idea I learned from Vedanta about not being attached to the fruits of our labor.  Do the work–let it go.

Writing letters and zines–I pour my soul into it, sharing what’s most important to me.  Some words will be taken to heart and change a life, helping someone feel less alone.  Some will get stuck in a pile of papers and lost.  Sometimes I can be misinterpreted, or struck down like a whacked mole for poking my head up.

I can’t control much of what happens, once it leaves my hands.  I do my best and trust people to take what they need.  Seeds could fall on the fertile earth or parched earth or whatever.

“Do small things with great love,” is similar.  “Whatever you do in life will be insignificant, but it’s very important that you do it,” too.

personality cults

I don’t like personality cults–worshiping people can confuse me and make me too vulnerable.  Maybe I overcompensate for my desire.  Part of me does want to put my faith in a person and feel deep reverence, thrilled by contact with the sacred.  I see that predilection in me and keep an eye on it.

Dorothy Day had really pretty hair, with the braid crown.  I can worship her as Mother, as long as I don’t forget the other layers of who she was.

By Laura-Marie

Good at listening to the noise until it makes sense.

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