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Anzac Day draws us away from the geopolitical chess board to consider the price that so many persons have paid for the wars in which their leaders join. It reminds us of the need for diplomacy based on respect for the humanity of persons on all sides of conflict.
Love is a much-used word, and, like domestic cutlery, it tends to lose its shine. Its boundaries then shrink to the average rather than to the inspiring. For that reason we need stories that stretch the ceiling of love beyond anything we could imagine. Not because we think that we could reach such far places, but because it enlarges the horizon of our lives.
Featuring a stellar cast of Hollywood’s finest actors, Apple TV's Extrapolations was a bold attempt to center a TV narrative around the dangers of our future on a warming planet, yet failed to capture audiences. But where Extrapolations failed as an effective cautionary tale for society, it may have succeeded as one for filmmakers.
Recognition is not simply an acceptance of facts. It involves also entering the experience of the people affected. Reconciliation must begin with truth telling, flow into empathy, and be followed by a conversation aimed at building decent relationships.
In the face of developments where the commons are intruded upon for private profit and economic efficiency, we need to treasure such unfashionable concepts as the commonwealth, the common good and the houses of commons – the places for deliberation and decision where what is in the common interest is given priority over the benefit of the few.
Generosity is most heartwarming when it is a habit. We see it in people whose first inclination is to give something to a beggar, to stop and listen to a hard luck story, to think first of persons affected by war and economic crises and only secondly to policy, to welcome people into their homes and to go out of their way to help.
By day, Gaza is news and images in the media. During the day, we nod as we see the plausibility of all the arguments. But sometimes at night, we may hear again the voice of lamentation, weeping and great mourning.
The key to combatting increasing levels of loneliness and social isolation will likely start in the way we think about cities, public spaces and social care to enable meaningful connections between people, and help to guard against harms caused by habitual loneliness. But we'll need to get creative.
In our more routine lives, most of us have people and groups whom we ignore, we instinctively look down on and we keep away from and people whose beliefs we scorn. We need to be attentive to the people who are commonly regarded as second-class citizens.
In an individualistic culture, Lent could be seen as an individual practice of self-betterment. Historically, however, it was a communal activity designed to make the community more attentive and aware of those around them and of their world.
Casamari, my destination for the night, was fifteen kilometres more walking. The signs pointed off the road, but I must have missed one. By this time, I had wandered too far to simply retrace my steps. I was lost. To be on this walk is to convince you that Italy is composed entirely of mountains.
Months after the referendum, can we allow this referendum to die while preserving the essence of its vision and optimism? This is akin to our response to the loss of a loved one — we hold onto their memory, reluctant to let go. How do we keep the deeply treasured aspirations of the referendum journey alive while facing the reality of its death?