Catherine Connors is a mother, writer and recovering academic who traded the lecture hall for the playroom and discovered that university students and preschoolers have much the same attention span. She still dips her toes into academic waters by writing the occasional scholarly article about the place of motherhood in Western philosophy, but mostly now she changes diapers and wipes noses and indulges in long reflections on whether Yo Gabba Gabba is a harbinger of the decline of western civilization. Oh, and she blogs: in addition to Bad Mother blogging at BeliefNet, she is, among other things, the author of HerBadMother.com, Managing Editor of MamaPop, moderator of Her Bad Mother’s Basement, co-founder and co-editor of WeCovet, Contributing Editor at BlogHer, and (deep breath) founder of and contributor to Canada Moms Blog. And in her spare time… oh, wait. She doesn’t have spare time. But she’s okay with that.
I had the opportunity, the other day, to sit down with a lovely lady who I admire very much and talk about love and loss and faith and spirit and soul and it was probably one of the more soul-nourishing conversations that I’ve had in recent weeks.
We have both had our hearts broken by loss. We have both wondered whether or how faith might lend some mending power. We have both struggled to figure out how we’re figuring out these very personal issues while still guiding our children openly and authentically. We have both been wondering what the first steps might be, to really making the journey to resolving – or at least, coming to terms with – those issues. We have both been wondering how to pursue faith with open hearts and open minds.
We decided, while talking, that an interesting first step might be to read the Bible, together. As an exercise in exploring faith, but also as an exercise of exploring words and stories and ideas and seeing how or whether those resonate for us. As a means of using our minds, our reason, to probe a little at belief. As a means of exploring.
I’m excited. I’m going to try to document the process – the feelings and ideas that it generates – here. Not as stunt-memoir, not for attention – just to document, and reflect.
I’ll let you know when we get started.