|
In Texas there was a 41 year old drowned mother whose three year old was saved, the child was still clinging to her mother's body. Well done, mamma; well done. I weep for you and the fear you must have had in your last minutes. I weep. Do we need to know what color her skin is or what nationality or if she had papers or was born here? No. Unimportant. We only need to know she gave her life for her child, she saved her child and we as fellow humans must somehow raise her child for her. Mothers, hear me. This is what we must do. Watch the footage and hear the frightening stories and breathe in the wonder and the possibilities that this devastation puts on beautiful display for us. When we are united we are stronger, when we are generous and kind and caring and reach out we are stronger. When we risk our own lives for another human being we are a credit to our human race. I just saw a human chain of people rescue a man from a truck and there was every color in that human chain of 20 people and probably every sexual orientation and maybe some illegal immigrants and who cares about any of it, they all had beating hearts that worked as one, all at risk, to save one. Would you not weep with gratitude if you were so blessed to be served by twenty loving strangers. If we as people have ever thought ourselves superior to others then we better not get into their boat if the others are the ones to come to our aid. Do you hear what I am saying? You are the sum of your choices and who you decide to be from moment to moment matters. I hope you will choose to be from love. Just choose to be as loving as you can in any moment. I see the love within you. I know it runs deep and cannot be diluted for all the rains in Texas. Reach for your best self. We sure need each other to heal this hurting world. Would you have joined hands with that human chain, waist deep in water? Of course you would have. For that is who you are. 
0 Comments
 Around four o'clock in the morning a certain bird starts to move and sing, starting with a random note. Perhaps the sound of this single bird is what brings the sun into the world.
"It is you who must start the day for us, my lovely," the bird was told. "For you are wise, and see deeply in to all hearts." And so, each day from then until now, the sweetest bird begins all our days. Other birds gradually chime in. A rooster crows. Morning doves coo. Nocturnal creatures start to put themselves to bed for the day as everything else begins fresh. An alarm goes off and a student groans. A cell phone vibrates and a runner reaches for running shoes. The sun rises and shines on the infant who then wakes up. Someone opens their sleepy eyes upon hearing the sounds of their baby. The bird that starts the day loves them all. The holy person starts their meditation prayer. The surgeon pauses to focus before making the incision. The librarian puts the book in its place for the next reader. The sweetest bird is so glad to have started this day. The barista designs a heart on top of the coffee. The steaming cup is handed to the police officer who has had a long night. The parent makes sandwiches for the family and wraps them in plastic, recalling as they do what they read yesterday about wrapping food. The bird is so pleased with everything it sees. The physical therapist watches their patient work hard to regain the mobility they lost in the accident. It was not their fault. The pawnbroker accepts the ring off the finger, and wonders why the customer has become desperate. A family chooses words to memorialize the depth of their loss. The bird is always there, open to what the new day brings. The teacher is notified and searches for the words to say. Anxious eyes stare up and wait. A group gathers, and the professor watches from the window on the fourth floor. Sometimes it is hard for us to hear the bird. Yet the day starting bird does not hesitate. It starts each day, holding no story about others. The bird holds no male, no female, no country, no religion, no race in its heart. It is simply a bird, who sings because it knows that goodness, love, and community are mostly what is in this world this day. "Let's start the goodness," the bird might sing. The store clerk wonders why the white men are buying so many tiki torches. A movie scene comes in to the clerks mind; one where people march out into the night with flames held high above their heads. The angry villagers were dissatisfied with themselves so found an "other" to label scary and unwanted. The day starting bird does not hesitate. It starts each day. It is simply a bird, who sings because it knows that goodness, love, and community are mostly what is in this world this day. "Let's start the goodness," the bird sings. I know, because it sang the song to me. Let us stand and sing together, with the bird. Johnny K took me to a secret Lenape Indian spot when we started dating. Places like this is how love begins.
Now, when I get a chance, I take people I love to this secret holy place. Yesterday I had a chance to bring my mother-in-law. This little pond is still, like a mirror. And yet this silent, serene pond feeds this ever running water fall. Feeds it through rainy season, heat wave, and drought. Feeds it at the rate of two thousand gallons per minute. The water springs up after traveling through limestone under the earth. It flows and flows and flows and flows and flows from this silent pond. The Lenape Indians once had villages here and it is still visited today. Things are left that are meaningful to people. Here I am reminded of the eternalness and magic of things. Perhaps when you are as big as God, you are happy with everything. You just love. You have no needs. You just experience. You are filled up with every perfect needle on each pine tree; every little feather on each bird, every little hair on each head. You love every sweet pond and every drop of water in it as it travels the path that you love. You understand totally the feelings of all and where the feelings came from. You root for no team, no country, no religion, no race, and no sexual orientation; because you are happy with everything. They are all your children, they are all created in your own image. You do not need to cheer for anyone to win, because it is all eternal. No thing is ever lost. All wonderful dogs, missed by masters, rest right at your heavenly feet. Unless they have decided to come back again to play. No thing is ever lost. No thing. Nothing is ever lost. You just hope that everything feels love and therefore learns to love. But you do not need to even hope that, because you are God. You know it is all good. You know that everyone will have opportunities to get loving. I mean that two ways; to get some loving and to get on to the job of loving. Joseph Campbell wrote in his book "The Power of Myth" that the basic theme of all mythology is that there is an invisible plane supporting the visible one. In the whole book, that is a sentence that I return to again and again. Let me whisper it in your ear so your ear might hold it for you: The basic theme of all mythology is that there is an invisible plane supporting the visible one. I loved that so much. All mythology, every tribe, ever in the world, had a story to explain "that there is an invisible plane supporting the visible one." I take such comfort in that. That somehow, every one of us knows. The water flows and flows and flows and flows and flows from the silent pond. I hope the idea of it reminds you of the eternalness and magic of things. |
Archives
May 2019
|
RSS Feed
|
|
