stopping to remember

This is a repost from last year. But I think it is still true.

What’s been going through my mind since early this morning has been the idea of sabbatical. Every seven years there was supposed to be a break, a year to let the land recover in ancient Israel. During that year you still took care of your animals, but the work of farming the land stopped.

The idea was that there would be enough that would come up from what had spilled the previous year to feed everyone. The idea was that God would provide. The idea was that everything needed a break.

It’s been seven years. We need a break. Not from the vigilance, I guess, and not from the grief, I guess. But many people found their lives changed that day and resolved to live differently. Some of us have, some of us haven’t. But all of us have been affected.

It’s a good time to stop and think. What difference has our resolve made? Now that your life has changed, what has changed? What if we stepped back for awhile to see what comes up from seed?

Catheen Rittereiser stops.

She started last year by stopping twittering. She’s doing it again this year. But this year, she’s taking stopping a step further. She’s inviting us to stop, on purpose, and to think of the moments that the 2751 people who died on 9/11/2001 don’t have.

Here’s the power of those moments. Living the day thinking, “they didn’t get to do this” – what ever “this” is, the ordinary stuff of our lives, is pretty compelling.

Go read Cathleen.

Think about stopping.

And in the silence, see what grows.

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As a way to make the silence tangible, think about this: tweet . . .  every ten minutes for an hour sometime today.

UPDATE thanks to Scott:

When we gather and then stop for a moment of silence, we know that we are being quiet on purpose. We can see each other not talking. In an online world, we can’t see each other. We could be not saying anything because we aren’t in the room, off line.

What I’m suggesting is that the ellipsis says, “I am here and I could be talking about lots of things, but these dots say I’m not.”

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