“Act as if what you do makes a difference. It does.” –– William James
In early April, internal forces raged within me while external forces raged around me, much like the winds and rains that battered my Ohio River Valley home at the time. When I find myself caught in such a storm, all I want to do is bury myself in a book or in one more murder mystery on TV. But I know the best thing I can do is get to work. So, early this spring I could be found in my basement refinishing a small table I salvaged from an abandoned home before it was demolished.
The table is a slice of a tree trunk supported by three legs. It was created with bark remaining along the edge. Now only three quarters of the circumference sport the outer layer of the tree. Bark on the remaining section, it appears, broke off long ago. And then two bowtie-shaped pieces of woods hold together a large crack cutting halfway across the diameter. Neither symmetry nor perfection are the hallmarks of this table.
THE WORK
My refinishing of the table matches its imperfections. I did not sand the top down to a smooth layer to remove all traces of what had been there before. Nor did I chip off all the bark to match the sides where it had fallen off. Instead, after cleaning the whole table with Murphy’s Oil Soap, I roughed up the top a bit with a sanding block and then applied two coats of tung oil.
I applied the tung oil with a soft old rag, careful to follow the grain. As I worked, I saw how restoring the table was giving me direction, that I, too, would do well to follow the grain of my own whorls. I began to see what I have gained by the chances I have taken and what have I missed by saying no to other risks. And I wondered about the choices –– if that is what they were –– I made over the years.
NOT ALWAYS A CHOICE
While it may be comforting to believe that we are captains of our own ships, that is not true for me, or, I suspect, most. In the eight years he spent walking six continents, The World Walk author Tom Turcich learned many lessons. Primary may be this: “… none [of us stands] on their own … each [of us are forged] by the great forces … government, geography, culture and the love we were shown. Although we like to believe we’re masters of our fate, our lives were decided long ago.”1
Just as the rings of a tree are affected by the soil in which it grows and the weather conditions surrounding it, yet remains the tree it is, I too have been shaped by the events of my life while remaining who I am.
A CONVERSATION
I explored this concept and more with an old high school friend over lunch recently. We discussed life and all its ambiguities, its contradictions, the messiness of our relationships, and how best to live in that space of non-absolutes where both blessings and pain are not always delivered separately. She spoke of her own awareness of living with dualities.
“Duality is the process of living with truths that are or appear to be contradictory,” she says. “The challenge is to find enough of a balance so as not to be stymied, but to move forward.”
TRUST
Fr. Richard Rohr, in his latest book, The Tears of Things, offers how faith can help us choose to move forward in a way that is loving. He writes, “… the joys and disappointments of the visible world are revelations of a less visible one. The less visible one is in control and is ultimately benevolent. Faith is our attempt to recognize and trust such benevolence.”2 And dare I say, mirror it.
I believe in benevolence, because I see it every day in so many blessings. And I see this: the table now sits in my back room. Its very placement in my home is what makes it complete. It is where it belongs. Likewise, while I alone am responsible for my words and deeds, my actions are only complete when in relationship.
IMPERFECTIONS
My table is small –– coffee table size. It will never hold large banquets. It will never be a focal point of peace negotiations.
Although I am tall for a woman, I too am small. I will never do great things that bring solace and peace to thousands. But I can provide a space in my home for family to celebrate, help my neighbor care for her dogs, listen to my friends as they unravel their own stories, donate food to the local food pantry, support my church’s effort to seek justice, write letters on behalf of those being left behind in our culture, give voice to wolves, trees, rivers and bees.
Is that enough? No. I am limited. And that too, I live with –– just as my table, despite my efforts, remains imperfect.
A STARTING POINT
I will always circle around from joy and gratitude over what I can do to experiencing fear and despair because of what I am not capable of. And just as I live in community with others, I am in relationship with all I see and perceive. My prayer is that with each pass around from delight to sorrow, I deepen the well from which I draw my life, drawing closer to that ultimate benevolence that Rohr speaks of.
As musician and writer Nick Cave notes: “Each of us is precious, and our actions are vital, everything we do and say matters…. Every action we take and every word we speak builds or breaks the planet. We must approach the world as collaborators and willing participants in its preservation, and each other … as friends.”3
Responding with compassion and understanding and not returning hurt for hurt is one way for me to build a better world. That often is not easy. But a table where we break bread with others and otherwise do the work our hands are called to do is a good place to start.
FOR REFLECTION: Can you name the metaphors or symbols that come into play in your own life? Can you point to the ways you have responded to the outside forces that have shaped you? Have you been able to bring into balance all the aspects of what makes you who you are?
1 Tom Turcich, The World Walk: 7 Years. 28,000 Miles. 6 Continents. A Grand Meditation, One Step at a Time
(New York: Skyhorse Publishing, 2024), 276.
2 Richard Rohr, The Tears of Things: Prophetic Wisdom for an Age of Outrage (New York: Convergent, 2025), 72.
3 Nick Cave, The Red Hand Files, #315, March 2025. https://www.theredhandfiles.com/lunch-acai-goji-berries/
Top image: Barbara Lyghtel Rohrer
Midtext image: Pixabay
Side image: Pixabay/Avelino Calvar Martinez
