Recognising in myself that same tendency to 'run through the library', I have have decided that throughout 2025 I will not add ANY more books to my own excessive library! Instead, I will actually READ all the wonderful books that I already own and even REREAD the particularly wonderful books that I have previously read yet failed to act on the wisdom they shared (likely to include 'Fully Alive', Elizabeth...). The appeal of this goes beyond just not adding more books to the 'to read' pile; until now I have spent so much time browsing (either in physical bookshops or online) that my time for reading was hugely diminished.
I have found myself craving the simplicity of silence with others, which has led me back to the Quakers. I was also opened up in heart, soul, and mind by a revelation while preparing a sermon two years ago for Trinity Sunday: I am wondering if God in God’s self is the greatest commandment (to love God and neighbour as you love yourself). They are neighbour, God, and self together in a relationship of love. For me, the greatest commandment is no longer wisdom dispensed and static, but a description of who God is as Creator, Son, and Holy Spirit. The love I can open my heart to so that practicing that teaching isn’t striving to live up to a standard, but an exploring of what it means to live in fidelity with a love that includes me (and everyone else) in their life together. It has helped me understand that I cannot hate another and say that I know God. That alone has been something my soul has returned to time and time again to be deeply nourished.
In the Land of Serendipity I saw this just now. See the link below to a book of aphorisms by Yahia Lababidi. The intro sounds about right.
I have long been dubious about aphorisms (and the internet / AI expansion) but this is different. Before Christmas I copied over two good poems, 'Hope' and 'For John' by Yahia to my substack, something I had not done before. I am reading his book of poems 'Palestinian Wail'. I have been in touch with the author and with other readers of his poetry.
Thank you for asking us to reflect on any seam of wisdom because it seems that whenever I choose to cut something out of my life for a period of time, unexpected vitality springs up. Having Lent as a time to make us think about this in a hard-core way certainly helps but it’s also those tiny little things like saying ‘no I’m not drinking coffee today’ that seem to discipline the body and mind, imploring me to stand my ground rather than wither along with every random impulse.
Thank you once again. I too have recognised that I cannot manage my life as it is with fears of missing out on the next, best thing I need to know. I unsubscribed from 18 (yes 18) Substacks on 1st January. Not yours of course. My daily life is so much richer now!
I have found that wisdom grows the most through suffering and hardship, and so rings true to my experience. I am so much wiser for the tough times. Thank you for sharing your thoughts on wisdom, this is really encouraging.
Deeply committing to one path of exploration (Buddhism) has paradoxically allowed me to appreciate all other contemplative traditions and what they offer in a much richer way - without the need to feel 'I'm missing out'... The reflective nature of each of 'Indra's pearls' mirrors back to me the multiplicity of beautiful paths available for deep spiritual growth and awakening (that suit the multiplicity of unique manifestations of life that we all are, in different ways).
And in honour of deep wisdom, as opposed to intellectual or conceptual understanding, a Zen master once said to his student: "Not knowing is most intimate."
This resonated with me so much. I stumbled on video clips of the cobalt mines in the Congo over Christmas and had to ask myself, all this online chatter of "wisdom" at what cost? And if it comes at that cost, can we even call it wisdom?
Couldn’t agree more with this. The best thing for my spiritual development happened when I followed Corita Kent’s advice: “Find a place you trust, and try trusting it a while.” The wisdom that comes from depth (and patience, stability) has meant far more to me than the wisdom that comes from breadth (and restlessness, FOMO).
This is so timely for me personally, but I do reckon that many others will find a delicious reprieve
thanks to your encouragements. I have been drowning in the constant flow (tsunami) of "content" (a word I despise but am hard-pressed to know how to replace). I've been actively thinking exactly about this problem and so your thoughts were very welcome in my inbox.
I'm secretly excited by a new project to gather my thoughts into a zettelkasten, which I think might help me focus and go deep...but that's a subject for later.
If you think you have found a seam of wisdom, stay with it. Actually walk in it. Give it time. You might call this approach wisdom minimalism. Whatever path you are on, I’d be interested to hear your reflections.
For many years I’ve been pursuing a theme which has gradually opened out regarding Silence-early Christianity-Eastern thought-and the work of Iain McGilchrist
For me the pursuit is very much a living one - its as if I have an Ariadne laying a path in front of me. Books amd conversations falling across my path
This deeply resonates, Elizabeth. Thank you for sharing! I find there are times when suddenly the "inputs" around me crescendo and feel like a cacophony and I find myself desperate for silence and slowing my brain down. As someone who loves to read and learn and think, I am chronically tempted towards "hoarder" behaviors with ideas and new information and eventually find it's just washing over me without much sticking. Cheers to wisdom minimalism in the new year!
Recognising in myself that same tendency to 'run through the library', I have have decided that throughout 2025 I will not add ANY more books to my own excessive library! Instead, I will actually READ all the wonderful books that I already own and even REREAD the particularly wonderful books that I have previously read yet failed to act on the wisdom they shared (likely to include 'Fully Alive', Elizabeth...). The appeal of this goes beyond just not adding more books to the 'to read' pile; until now I have spent so much time browsing (either in physical bookshops or online) that my time for reading was hugely diminished.
‘To know fully even one field or land is a lifetime’s experience. In the world of poetic experience it is depth that counts, not width.’
Patrick Kavanagh
I have found myself craving the simplicity of silence with others, which has led me back to the Quakers. I was also opened up in heart, soul, and mind by a revelation while preparing a sermon two years ago for Trinity Sunday: I am wondering if God in God’s self is the greatest commandment (to love God and neighbour as you love yourself). They are neighbour, God, and self together in a relationship of love. For me, the greatest commandment is no longer wisdom dispensed and static, but a description of who God is as Creator, Son, and Holy Spirit. The love I can open my heart to so that practicing that teaching isn’t striving to live up to a standard, but an exploring of what it means to live in fidelity with a love that includes me (and everyone else) in their life together. It has helped me understand that I cannot hate another and say that I know God. That alone has been something my soul has returned to time and time again to be deeply nourished.
In the Land of Serendipity I saw this just now. See the link below to a book of aphorisms by Yahia Lababidi. The intro sounds about right.
I have long been dubious about aphorisms (and the internet / AI expansion) but this is different. Before Christmas I copied over two good poems, 'Hope' and 'For John' by Yahia to my substack, something I had not done before. I am reading his book of poems 'Palestinian Wail'. I have been in touch with the author and with other readers of his poetry.
https://www.indcatholicnews.com/news/51461
Thank you for asking us to reflect on any seam of wisdom because it seems that whenever I choose to cut something out of my life for a period of time, unexpected vitality springs up. Having Lent as a time to make us think about this in a hard-core way certainly helps but it’s also those tiny little things like saying ‘no I’m not drinking coffee today’ that seem to discipline the body and mind, imploring me to stand my ground rather than wither along with every random impulse.
Thank you once again. I too have recognised that I cannot manage my life as it is with fears of missing out on the next, best thing I need to know. I unsubscribed from 18 (yes 18) Substacks on 1st January. Not yours of course. My daily life is so much richer now!
I have found that wisdom grows the most through suffering and hardship, and so rings true to my experience. I am so much wiser for the tough times. Thank you for sharing your thoughts on wisdom, this is really encouraging.
Deeply committing to one path of exploration (Buddhism) has paradoxically allowed me to appreciate all other contemplative traditions and what they offer in a much richer way - without the need to feel 'I'm missing out'... The reflective nature of each of 'Indra's pearls' mirrors back to me the multiplicity of beautiful paths available for deep spiritual growth and awakening (that suit the multiplicity of unique manifestations of life that we all are, in different ways).
And in honour of deep wisdom, as opposed to intellectual or conceptual understanding, a Zen master once said to his student: "Not knowing is most intimate."
This resonated with me so much. I stumbled on video clips of the cobalt mines in the Congo over Christmas and had to ask myself, all this online chatter of "wisdom" at what cost? And if it comes at that cost, can we even call it wisdom?
Couldn’t agree more with this. The best thing for my spiritual development happened when I followed Corita Kent’s advice: “Find a place you trust, and try trusting it a while.” The wisdom that comes from depth (and patience, stability) has meant far more to me than the wisdom that comes from breadth (and restlessness, FOMO).
Thank you - you have encapsulated what has been gradually dawning on me over the last couple of months.
Went straight from reading this to the Book of Eccleciastes.
This is so timely for me personally, but I do reckon that many others will find a delicious reprieve
thanks to your encouragements. I have been drowning in the constant flow (tsunami) of "content" (a word I despise but am hard-pressed to know how to replace). I've been actively thinking exactly about this problem and so your thoughts were very welcome in my inbox.
I'm secretly excited by a new project to gather my thoughts into a zettelkasten, which I think might help me focus and go deep...but that's a subject for later.
Loved this, thank you - very helpful for me! Megan thought it sounded like it was written for Enneagram 7's :)
If you think you have found a seam of wisdom, stay with it. Actually walk in it. Give it time. You might call this approach wisdom minimalism. Whatever path you are on, I’d be interested to hear your reflections.
For many years I’ve been pursuing a theme which has gradually opened out regarding Silence-early Christianity-Eastern thought-and the work of Iain McGilchrist
For me the pursuit is very much a living one - its as if I have an Ariadne laying a path in front of me. Books amd conversations falling across my path
It’s rather lovely
Thank you for asking
It has at once multiplicity and union, like a multicoloured single thread
This deeply resonates, Elizabeth. Thank you for sharing! I find there are times when suddenly the "inputs" around me crescendo and feel like a cacophony and I find myself desperate for silence and slowing my brain down. As someone who loves to read and learn and think, I am chronically tempted towards "hoarder" behaviors with ideas and new information and eventually find it's just washing over me without much sticking. Cheers to wisdom minimalism in the new year!