On the Common 196
On Being Seen.
Hello,
Please tell me which utility you’re using more this week:
There’s been a lot of flipping back and forth here. You?
The Part Where There’s an Essay: On Being Seen
Our back neighbor has a dog who likes to roam; on more than one occasion, we have had to scoop her up (she’s quite heavy) and return her home. The last time we did this, he chuckled and said, “She probably smells your dog!” Our dog was no longer alive at the time, but seeing as I was already dressed for church and we were late, I decided just to nod along, “yes, she probably does!” She probably did—he hadn’t been gone that long.
Last weekend I was watering plants in my backyard when I heard this same neighbor calling to me over the fence. I walked over and greeted him. He said, “I’m so sorry, but I just wanted to ask—what happened to your dog?”
“Oh,” I said, surprised. “He passed away suddenly in early November.”
“Oh no!” my neighbor replied. “I’m so sorry! I had no idea, and there I was the other week just talking about him like he was still here. I didn’t notice he was gone! I’m so sorry, I hope I didn’t make you feel bad…” on and on he went, begging my forgiveness for his innocent mistake.
Of course I was gracious and tried to stop his long entreaty; if there’s one thing that makes me uncomfortable, it’s excessive apologies. But this man really loves his dogs, and he felt so sad for us. It was like Finn had just died in his timeline. It was a generous display of heartfelt sympathy.
It was kind of him to apologize and speak of Finn, but maybe the kindest part was just that he noticed Finn was missing. We (myself included) go blustering through our days so quickly and overlook the little sadnesses and joys in one another’s lives; I felt touched that he had noticed our loss.
Our book club just discussed the bestselling Theo of Golden last weekend. The main character in Theo knows how to see people. He sits down with many characters, and these people tell them their stories: stories of loss, joy, love, and more. Theo gives them the breathing space to speak; what’s more, he gives them the gift of being seen and heard.
I have heard criticisms of this book that it’s “too perfect,” or that it resembles a Hallmark movie. There are idyllic things about it, to be sure. But there is also darkness mingled with the light. I think what helped me understand Allen’s intentions was his comment about Flannery O’Connor to Jonathan Rogers (on this episode of The Habit podcast).
Flannery’s writing is characterized as Southern Gothic; it frequently has shocking, grotesque violence and repugnant characters. Her intention in doing so is to shock the reader into awareness of the sin and grace that are present in our everyday lives. Allen Levi proposes that part of his writing Theo was an attempt to shock people with kindness; what if, he supposes, there was a person who was so generous that it seemed unbelievable?
It does not take much in this cynical, unkind world to surprise people with being seen.
For anything to be good, truly good, there must be love in it. I’m not even sure I know fully what that means, but the older I get, the more I believe it. There must be love for the gift itself, love for the subject being depicted or the story being told, and love for the audience. Whether the art is sculpture, farming, teaching, lawmaking, medicine, music, or raising a child, if love is not in it — at the very heart of it — it might be skillful, marketable, or popular but I doubt it is truly good. Nothing is what it’s supposed to be if love is not at the core.
Allen Levi, Theo of Golden
For the Anglophiles
When a customer decides to return the “favor”:
Reads & Listens of the Week
A pediatric cardiologist discusses the role of Sadness in Inside Out. “The deeper problem behind our ‘comforting’ clichés is not always bad theology. More often, it is our discomfort with sadness itself. The psalmists understood this, and did not rush past lament.”
Not Everything Needs to Be Useful: “The most common case I see others make for the proliferation of AI—in Christian circles and otherwise—is how integrating artificial intelligence into our lives and work will ‘lead to levels of productivity and utility that mankind has never seen in its history.’ And I just don’t think that’s necessarily a good thing.”
No, Books are Not Remotely Too Expensive: “The next time you pick up a $30 hardcover and wince, remember you’re holding a year (probably more) of someone’s creative labor; multiple rounds of professional editing; original cover art and interior design; paper, printing, binding, warehousing, and shipping; a bookseller’s rent; a clerk’s wages; not to mention an entire supply chain from forest to shelf.”
Jess Ray has been releasing some wonderful new music lately.
Perhaps the best conversationalist in the world is the man who helps others to talk. -John Steinbeck
Sweet picture of Finn...❤️.
Love indeed.