Commune of Women is a novel about six women, trapped together in a small room, who must use their slender resources to survive and prevail by sharing everything: their hope and fear; their food; and their life stories, which grow deeper, darker and more intimate as the days pass.
I encountered “Everything that rises must converge” while reading Flannery O’Connor, one of my favorite writers from the American South. It is the title of one of her books. She was quoting Teilhard de Chardin, a Catholic priest. In my own life this expression has rung quite true, though the meaning I make of it may be different than theirs. Everything I have ever worked for, rising regardless of circumstances to do my best, has led eventually to the lives of other people who are also rising – sometimes against even greater odds than mine. Embracing this reality removes fear of striking out and upward. Everyone you truly wish to encounter will be there when you arrive (you will realize you have been rising together though on separate continents, perhaps, or even during separate centuries!) or will appear shortly thereafter.
There is much joy and celebration whenever we converge, i.e. meet each other. The spirits we knew. The faces we did not. Usually.
Signs of Life:
Check out Alice Walker's official blog, and her poem "New of Your Arrest." Fabulous!