(no subject)
“what mattered to a person in the sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries was what happened to him and to the closest to him between one sunrise and the next, on his on plot of land or in his own place of business, and in the company of his own kinfolk and perhaps hired workers. But he could see that for himself . . . As for the events that were not in his life, those that occurred in the lives of other people in other places, of what possible interest could they be to him? The idea that a human being could be instructed or amused by the fortunes of a stranger was as foreign to a European back then as land across the sea. The world outside one’s immediate ken was a place of mystery, not a source of enlightenment”
A notion which, to us, is foreign. Or should be. It's easier in preaching than practice. We get caught up in our circles, our joys, our distresses. I'm not doubting their significance, just recognizing their distraction.
I'm a product of Kansas suburbia, and I end up at Starbucks and the Gap too often. I'll be back in Baltimore tomorrow, where homework involves creating stories and reading novels, where I go to an opera house with multi-million dollar staircase for ballet class, where "work" entails e-mailing from cubicles alongside friends, where I ride in a van to a questionable part of town that others call home to give kids 2-hours of my time. To me, this is life as I know it. It's varied, it's highly enriching, yet still, hardly offers a glimpse beyond this sliver of creation.
Promising to myself now--inspired by the wonderous folks whose life stories became my research "data" this summer--that realms will be broadened, norms will be forgotten. And someday soon will come an exile from my comfort zone.
A notion which, to us, is foreign. Or should be. It's easier in preaching than practice. We get caught up in our circles, our joys, our distresses. I'm not doubting their significance, just recognizing their distraction.
I'm a product of Kansas suburbia, and I end up at Starbucks and the Gap too often. I'll be back in Baltimore tomorrow, where homework involves creating stories and reading novels, where I go to an opera house with multi-million dollar staircase for ballet class, where "work" entails e-mailing from cubicles alongside friends, where I ride in a van to a questionable part of town that others call home to give kids 2-hours of my time. To me, this is life as I know it. It's varied, it's highly enriching, yet still, hardly offers a glimpse beyond this sliver of creation.
Promising to myself now--inspired by the wonderous folks whose life stories became my research "data" this summer--that realms will be broadened, norms will be forgotten. And someday soon will come an exile from my comfort zone.