“Where presence becomes image, and every frame is a dialogue between light, rhythm, and legacy.”
- Vernon Chalmers
There are many ways to consume information and places to put our attention. If you’re online anytime of the day, which most of us are, information isn’t only easily accessible, it’s being pushed towards us at an accelerating algorithmic rate. I don’t know about you, but I’m getting a bit of indigestion.
We don’t need more information.
We need discernment. We need the slow, deliberate acts that inspire and cultivate our creativity. We need the pause between the breaths so we can investigate and integrate what feels true for us, not simply what we are being fed. We need to stay close to the people we know and love, and open to and aware of those beyond our visible horizon. There are shiny objects that vie for our time and attention, but underneath the constantly changing facade is a foundation that is rooted in what is essential, and yes, universal.
We don’t need more information.
We need presence. A willingness to be both student and teacher. Not for the sake of consuming more, or sharing more, but on behalf of gaining insight and clarity so we can step into this busy, chaotic world with a center we can hold. And even when we can’t, we need a place within and without that we can retreat to, that we can fall back on, that we can rest our weary head and have our hearts be held.
We don’t need more information.
We need a safe and caring community to tell our stories. To share our questions and curiosities, and above all, our humanity. As I watched the Moon mission this week with the Artemis II crew, it became so clear to me- our humanness is what moves us. What had me riveted wasn’t the information the astronauts gathered and reported, it was seeing the connection, awe and appreciation of their shared experience.
More of that please.
x Alisa
Photo credit: unknown