Charles Station

Charles Station on the Red Line, Boston, Massachusetts

I don’t have a post ready for today, so I’m sharing this picture from a trip to Boston a few years ago, and will ramble for a bit…

I’ll also share this quote I randomly came across this morning:

To begin writing from our pain eventually engenders compassion for our small and groping lives. Out of this broken state there comes a tenderness for the cement below our feet, the dried grass cracking in a terrible wind. We can touch the things around us we once thought ugly and see their special detail, the peeling paint and gray of shadows as they are–simply what they are: not bad, just part of the life around us–and love this life because it is ours and in the moment there is nothing better.

–Natalie Goldberg, Writing Down the Bones

I love that.

With my overindulgence in Twitter lately, I’ve been consuming too much snark and cleverness. It wears me down, all the attention-seeking by myself and others. There are true connections, and a lot of entertainment and wisdom, but such a cacophony. I get lost in the din. And the quiet. It’s a crowded and lonely place.

And that’s all. I’ll try spending more time on blog post writing than Twitter chirping today.

2 thoughts on “Charles Station

  1. I love that quote. Made me think of how I feel about the grain elevators in our area. They are very controversial, some say an eye sore, others say giant beauties representative of our industrial heritage. So I saw them as beautiful while hiking Tifft Nature Preserve this weekend with their “peeling paint and [the] gray of shadows.”

  2. Hi, Pat. I started seeing things more this way on my walks around the neighborhood, with less tsk-tsking over poor maintenance. (Although still some unavoidable tsk-tsking.)

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