Cycho Librarian

There is a magic in the rising moon, Across the sea the siren voices call, The mountains pull the wand'rer from his room, And forests make no lord so fit a hall. Beneath clear skies we huddle round the flame, Laughing until our hands and souls are warm. New faces fast become our ancient names Known to us all before the world was born. This is my blessing and my greatest fear: To see it all and never stop for rest. I think and new frontiers 'fore me appear, And pathways spread beyond each undimmed crest, Until I feel my heart will burst its bonds With all the possibilities and songs.

This morning I had another of those "small world" moments that seem to come so frequently in our hyper-connected world. I'm involved in a public art project for Columbus's bicentennial next year to create original pieces for the carillon bells at my church, and one of the composers who I've shown around the tower friend requested me. Even though I had never met her before this project, I come to find out that she's already friends with two other friends of mine. This is the point where most people just laugh and make a joke about how Columbus is really a pretty small town. But I've thought about this before and I'm not sure that it's so much that Columbus is a small town, but that we are all connected a lot more than we think. Think about how many times this has happened to you: you're at a party, maybe not even in your hometown, and you fall into conversation with a stranger. That person happens to know someone where you're from or whe...

When I studied Greek, and in particular the Odyssey , one concept that always stuck out to me was νόστος , a Greek word meaning the return to one's home, usually after a long time away. As with most translations, this doesn't do the word justice. So much more is tied up in that word than just coming home: the longing for one's home, the comforts of home, the end of a long journey. For me it was always best summed up by book 13 of the Odyssey . After 20 years away from Ithaka, Odysseus is left on the shore of his homeland, and hidden by a mist brought by Athena to hide him from his enemies. At first Odysseus doesn't recognize the island, and when Athena, disguised a shepherd, tells him where he is, he doesn't believe her. Finally Athena reveals herself and lifts the mists, showing Odysseus the familiar landmarks of his home, and Odysseus falls to the ground and kisses the earth. This is, to my mind, a perfect description of what it's like to come home after a l...