Father. Brother. Mother Earth.

Bill McKibben’s most recent Substack post paid tribute to Pope Francis, calling him “perhaps the world’s greatest environmental champion.”

Bill’s right. It may be hard to believe that such a gentle soul could be such an eco-warrior, but his sense of justice demanded it.

Bill’s post is behind a paywall – you might be able to get to it for free if you enter your email address. (I’m a proud tree-hugging subscriber to Mr. McKibben’s Substack… it’s called The Crucial Years.)

Bill quotes from Pope Francis’ 2015 encyclical Laudato Si (Latin for “Praised be”), which “brought moral resolve to the question of climate change.”

A few choice quotes from it:

(men and women have) intervened in nature, but for a long time this meant being in tune with and respecting the possibilities offered by the things themselves. It was a matter of receiving what nature itself allowed, as if from its own hand.

However “human beings and material objects no longer extend a friendly hand to one another; the relationship has become confrontational.” With the great power that technology has afforded us, it’s become “easy to accept the idea of infinite or unlimited growth, which proves so attractive to economists, financiers and experts in technology. It is based on the lie that there is an infinite supply of the earth’s goods, and this leads to the planet being squeezed dry beyond every limit.”

And more from Bill McKibben’s post:

Francis was very much a pragmatist, and one advised by excellent scientists and engineers. As a result, he had a clear technological preference: the rapid spread of solar power everywhere. He favored it because it was clean, and because it was liberating—the best short-term hope of bringing power to those without it, and leaving that power in their hands, not the hands of some oligarch somewhere.

As a result, he followed up Laudato Si with a letter last summer, Fratello Sole, which reminds everyone that the climate crisis is powered by fossil fuel, and which goes on to say

There is a need to make a transition to a sustainable development model that reduces greenhouse gas emissions into the atmosphere, setting the goal of climate neutrality. Mankind has the technological means to deal with this environmental transformation and its pernicious ethical, social, economic and political consequences, and, among these, solar energy plays a key role.

As a result, he ordered the Vatican to begin construction of a field of solar panels on land it owned near Rome—an agrivoltaic project that would produce not just food but enough solar power to entirely power the city-state that is the Vatican. It is designed, in his words, to provide “the complete energy sustenance of Vatican City State.” That is to say, this will soon be the first nation powered entirely by the sun.

Praised be, indeed!

More from Bill’s post:

The level of emotion—of love—in this decision is notable. The pope named “Laudato Si” (“Praised be”) after the first two words of his namesake’s Canticle to the Sun, and Fratello Sole was even more closely tied—those are the words that the first Francis used to address Brother Sun. I reprint the opening of the Canticle here, in homage to both men, and to their sense of humble communion with the glorious world around us.

All praise be yours, my Lord, through all that you have made,
And first my lord Brother Sun,
Who brings the day; and light you give to us through him.
How beautiful is he, how radiant in all his splendor!
Of you, Most High, he bears the likeness.

The world is a poorer place this morning. But far richer for his having lived.

Amen, Brother Bill!

Pope Francis is now basking in the eternal light of God’s love. But those of us left on this one earth we share could do a much better job harnessing the light of Brother Sun, and quit squeezing the planet dry beyond every limit.

Light. Laughter. Grace.

No, the title of this post isn’t some sort of weird stage direction from Will & Grace.

It’s sage advice from a deep thinker and masterful storyteller.

“shards of light and laughter and grace…” Because our crystal ball is broken. Our little window can shut without warning.

Brian Doyle was — check that, IS — an amazing writer. His book One Long River of Song is a collection of his essays. I’ve sung its praises before. In case you’re too lazy to click on the link, here’s my post from June of 2021:

Re-reading that post now, there’s some eerie symmetry going on that didn’t exist in 2021. One of my best friends is battling brain cancer. Brian’s musings have taken on a greater meaning. And his legacy has a deeper resonance.

“shards of light and laughter and grace…” In a world that seems full of nothing but darkness and tears and cruelty, those shards can be hard to spot — until your own ray of sunshine hits them, and refracts onto others.

Light. Laughter. Grace. Use your window to catch it. Use your window to share it.


Here’s a live link to Brian Doyle’s One Long River of Song. It’s gorgeous. You are too, with your light, laughter and grace.

Follow the leader (a.k.a. Seth)

Earlier this month, Seth Godin published his 10,000th blog post:

One of those 10,000 posts, back in January of 2015, was one where he challenged fellow bloggers (or aspiring bloggers) to publish one post a day for a week. A “Your Turn” Challenge to build a habit of blogging. Or just a habit of creating something and “shipping it” as Seth calls it.

I took on that challenge more than a decade ago. I had been blogging sporadically prior to that. I’ve been much more prolific since. So, depending on how you feel about this blog, you have Seth to thank or blame.

But for yours truly, I owe him a huge debt of gratitude, for coaxing me out of my cave, for giving me the push I needed to write more often, for helping me find more joy in writing.

When someone uses my work to teach others or to make something better, the work has achieved its purpose. If you didn’t do your work, there’d be no point to mine.

Seth Godin

Seth’s posts are typically short and sweet… and chock-full of food for thought. You can — and should — subscribe here.

If you’re keeping score at home, this is Post #1092 for me.

I may never get to 10,000. But I’m not trying to match Seth. I’m just trying to follow his lead.

Thanks for reading!

Being certain about uncertainty

This short essay by Mandy Brown has 777 words. (I counted… OK, Microsoft Word did.) I’m lucky it was brought to my attention by one of the many newsletters I try to read each week/month. (I wish I could remember which one… )

The essay is about dealing with uncertainty. And how uncertainty is the only thing that makes life possible.

Our awareness of life, of its great variety and beauty and possibility, emerges out of uncertainty. Awareness, that sense of being awake to the world, is necessary only because we live in uncertainty. If we knew what was to come, we would have no need for sensemaking, no need to be alert to what’s around us, no need to ever open our eyes and ears and arms to each other.

This is, perhaps, the great paradox of modern technologies: in a world without uncertainty, we would need only be aware of our screens—nothing else would matter. But in the deeply uncertain world we do live in, we cling to those screens because they promise the one thing we can never have.

We want answers, but life delivers questions. Ms. Brown’s advice at the end of the essay makes a ton of sense:

  1. Take small steps.
  2. Be ready to shift directions.
  3. Anticipate surprise.
  4. Trust in creativity.
  5. Go with friends.

Our power is not measured in weapons or cash but in humans; our power is with and through each other

Life may be uncertain, but I’m certain about that!

Crying in the Mercantile Library

This is NOT a music-related post. (I have to post that disclaimer, as two of the four regular readers of this blog don’t like my musical musings.)

Michelle Zauner is the leader of the band Japanese Breakfast. I’m a huge fan. (Their new album comes out soon!)

But she also wrote a very moving memoir about loss – her book Crying in H Mart. When her mother was diagnosed with cancer, Michelle left her East Coast band and flew back to her childhood home in Eugene, Oregon, to take care of her mom during her final months. And as a Korean-American who lost not just her mom but her connection to her Korean heritage, Michelle feels the grief quite intensely.

I can sorta-kinda relate. I’m not mixed race like Michelle, but my mom was first generation Italian-American. And when she passed away, I lost that connection to the Italian part of my heritage. I was lucky enough to spend some quality time with my Italian aunts (Rosetta and Inez) growing up, but chances are my feelings of “Italian-ness” would be much stronger had my mom not passed away when I was so young.

I hadn’t thought about that a lot, until I listened to Michelle speak about her book at Cincinnati’s Mercantile Library earlier this week.

I found myself getting a bit misty-eyed when she talked about the sense of not just maternal loss but also cultural loss. And I started to think that I’m not just a fan of Michelle’s band, but also a kindred spirit with her.

Then. later in the week, I saw this quote:

It is essential for us to welcome our grief, whatever form it takes. When we do, we open ourselves to our shared experiences in life. Grief is our common bond. Opening to our sorrow connects us with everyone, everywhere.

— Francis Weller

Yes, I’m a kindred spirit with Michelle Zauner. And with you. And with everyone who has suffered loss… which is “everyone, everywhere.”

Grateful Living has a monthly series called “Grateful Gatherings.” As fate would have it, the focus for March is “Grief & Gratefulness.” Here’s another Francis Weller quote:

“Gratitude is the other hand of grief. It is the mature person who welcomes both. To deny either reality is to slip into chronic depression or to live in a superficial reality. Together they form a prayer that makes tangible the exquisite richness of life in this moment. Life is hard and filled with suffering. Life is also a most precious gift, a reason for continual celebration and appreciation.”

Amen to that!

The Grief & Gratefulness resources are here. Should you find yourself crying in H Mart, or in the Mercantile Library, or anywhere, really, they could come in handy.


The Mercantile Library is an absolute gem in the Queen City. It’s been open since 1835, but recently completed a remodel that adds much more cool space to what already was the city’s best haven for “readers, writers, and thinkers” as their website says. Michelle Zauner this past Tuesday, Curtis Sittenfeld this past Friday… with Timothy Egan, Crystal Wilkinson, Ada Limón, Colson Whitehead, Kaveh Akbar, and Lauren Groff still on tap this year, along with several other authors, plus book clubs, poetry readings, yoga, and so much more.

It’s a membership library, but the low cost would be worth it just to hang out in their space, and membership gets you early (and often free) access to the author events.

Wonder is all around you

Here’s a no-cost way to add joy and wonder to your life, courtesy of psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi:

“Try to be surprised by something every day. It could be something you see, hear, or read about. Stop to look at the unusual car parked at the curb, taste the new item on the cafeteria menu, actually listen to your colleague at the office. How is this different from other similar cars, dishes or conversations? What is its essence? Don’t assume that you already know what these things are all about, or that even if you knew them, they wouldn’t matter anyway. Experience this one thing for what it is, not what you think it is. Be open to what the world is telling you. Life is nothing more than a stream of experiences — the more widely and deeply you swim in it, the richer your life will be.”

Stop. Look. Listen. Taste. Smell. Feel. Your senses are working, but it’s time to get them working overtime.


Fun fact: the letters in “Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi” can be rearranged to spell “hilly haystacks minimize”… hmm, I think I need to keep working on the whole “stream of experiences” thing.