Tag: reflections

Ash Wednesday: Reflections


Photo: ‘Tissue’ by Alicja Pyszka-Franceschini, 2024.

There is a famous painting by Andrea Mantegna called by many as The Dead Christ (see here). It is a striking picture. It shows Christ’s body laid down on a bed after the crucifixion. The painting uses foreshortened perspective as a compositional technique.

Christ’s body appears shorter than it really was. It is squashed almost to an unnatural size. Both of his palms are curved and fingers bent like claws. His pain is noticeable although He does not feel pain any more. The foreshortening of perspective is aching to foreshortened life, of course. I have no doubt about that. However, there is an aura to the painting of something forgotten too. Of someone lacking foresight or full sight. The painter did not have it. Neither do we as spectators. From Christ’s body posture, though, we infer that he was as much in psychological pain as he was physically suffering. Would his posture be different if he took less blame? Was Jesus tormented to mercy*? How did He experience this torment? And why on Earth did He do it?

On one level or another Jesus knew that making his soul of steel, would be ill-advised. 

Making our souls of steel
is ill-advised.

Jesus, it seems to me, was after nonconstructive criticism. He focused on stupidity, biased and prejudiced thinking. He sought out the injustices done to him and others through others. 

As we seek those done to us
and by ourselves less so

But why has Jesus gone through the hurt-optimization procedure? I can guess that it would be to build up his capacity for something. Could it have been forgiveness?

It sounds insane, doesn’t it?

*I read the phrase ‘a torment of mercy’ in one of the books by Adam Philips, I think it was On Getting Better. I apologize to the author for a lack of appropriate reference.

The post is a short version of a draft of an essay in progress by Alicja Pyszka-Franceschini, 2024-2025. All rights reserved. Copying without an written approval of the author prohibited.

Christmas Mirror

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If you were standing in front of the mirror that shows the greatest desire of your heart, what would it reveal to you? Do you know yourself well enough to know what that would be?

If we discard the need/requirement/fad to be slimmer or wealthier, what would remain?

If we remove the musts and shoulds, is it possible that the mirror would show what we already have, who we already are? Is there any likelihood that it would reveal nothing but what exists already, that it would show you that you are already very very happy? Even though things are not picture-perfect, there is an aspect of your life that is making it what you’ve forever wanted it to be.

Is it possible that if you would look into that mirror today, you would gasp with awe as you would notice that what you experience contains the very happiness that you had once hoped for.  Isn’t that magical?

Happy Christmas season, my friend. You are a gift to the world.

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Change the pattern

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“Notice everything. Appreciate everything, including the ordinary. That’s how to click in with joyfulness or cheerfulness. Curiosity encourages cheering up. So does simply remembering to do something different. … You can … just go to the window and look at the sky. You can splash cold water on your face, you can sing in the shower, you can go jogging – anything that’s against your usual pattern. That’s how things start to lighten up.” ~Pema Chödrön

 

 

The bridge where tantrums melt

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birds feedingthe bridge 2

There is a bridge close to my house where tantrums melt and calm proceeds. I’m not quite sure what it is in that place that pacifies difficult feelings and makes more reassuring communication possible. Maybe it’s the joy of reaching a destination that does it or the task of feeding ducks or just being surrounded by nature or maybe all of these things taken together. Life just seems to float there. Just like the water under the bridge.

It’s not only the toddler who needs the bridge. I need it too, to quieten my internal communication with myself. August has been quite intense for me as the next few months are likely to be. When the pressure is high, I really appreciate open spaces more than anything. Perhaps I also have got a kicking and screaming toddler in myself who can only collect herself when out in the wild.

When I used to work in my dad’s orchard, my sister and I would spend a lot of time just looking into the sky, watching the passing clouds, connecting with the heavens. I noticed that my son loves doing it too. Looking up, breathing deeply. It’s reassuring, isn’t it? That under the clouds we are all small people.