Dear Double Rainbow Guy

I am not laughing at you.

Double rainbow guy is viral.

It bugs me.  I am a snarky, cranky lady who teases people to their faces.  Double rainbow guy is being laughed at all over the innerwebz.  I'm not laughing.   Why?

It's not funny.  If he were looking at an image of the Buddha, or Jesus, or Mary few would have found it so hysterical.  Double rainbow guy was having a spiritual experience.  Even if you think he's stupid or wrong you shouldn't be laughing at that.

I was speaking with friends recently about how we as a society are so uptight.  Why we can't "get filled with the Holy Spirit."  Why we avert our eyes rather than celebrating when people are having a moment with God and are vulnerable.  This is why.  If you openly celebrate your religion and your spirituality you are opening yourself up to ridicule.  It doesn't only apply to "religious" experiences, either.

I cry in art museums.   I stand weeping in front of works of art.  I allow myself to be moved and feel it as deeply as I can.  I have wept in the stillness of the redwood forest.  I have wept on ocean cliff sides as the waves crashed with violent force.  In the eyes of some people that makes me weird.  I am ok with that.

I am embracing the awkwardness.  It is strange to feel so immensely moved by something people might see as normal or mundane.  If I had seen a double rainbow I may have reacted the same way.  Uninhibited, openly questioning how I came to be so blessed to witness something so beautiful.  I would have been too afraid to share my reaction with people.  You can all see why.

How Deep is Your Love?

No matter how big my boys get I still get a catch in my throat when I hear their deep sleep breathing.  It takes me back to those first few days of their lives when I would strain desperately in the middle of the night to hear those reassuring sighs.  The sleep brings back that baby look to their faces.  Completely relaxed expressions.  I have to restrain myself from lifting them up and cradling their gangly floppy bodies.  I understand now why the old woman in the book "I Love You Forever" was still sneaking into her grown son's room to cradle him in his sleep.  My love for them is deep beyond comprehension.  Merely pondering gives me the sensation of standing at the edge of the Grand Canyon.  Wondering how anything can be that large.  As large as it appears the scale of it steals from us our ability to perceive it.  We only know that it is vast, beautiful, and have a great fear and respect for the danger something that massive poses.

Just as one does not test the depth of the Grand Canyon, one must not test the love of a mother, for it is a great and fearful thing.

Turning in my cape

I learned a valuable lesson.  I am not responsible.  I can't save everyone.  Sometimes you just have to give up.

I imagine trying to save a drowning swimmer who doesn't know they are drowning.  They kick and fight and do everything to get you off of them.  Maybe they even think you are the one trying to pull them under.  At some point you have to give up or they will pull you down with them.

I am not responsible for the decisions of other people.  I can't make them see what they don't want to see.  I can't convince them of the truth if they have swallowed a lie whole.  I can't follow them down a hole they chose themselves, especially if there is a chance I can't make it out myself.

I can still hold out hope for humanity.  I can still believe that every drowning swimmer has the chance of rescue.  I don't have to be the one to save everyone.

The most difficult part of learning a lesson like this is the old wounds it opens.  My heart is broken.  It turns out it has been broken for some time and every beat was painful.  Over the years I have ignored the pain, it has healed over some, but like a broken bone that was not treated and must be reset the pain I feel at lifting and removing the scar tissue hurts as bad if not worse than the original injury.

From the outside my life looks that same.  If I were to tell you what happened it would seem insignificant.  That is how I learn.  I bear the brunt of endless small injuries until I look back through history and see volumes of small offenses, the weight of which I can no longer bear.  So I close the book.  I begin on a fresh page and start the story from today, but the old volumes remain on the shelf where I can see them, just in case I need to be reminded of what can happen if I let it.

I am not a super hero.  I am not the catcher in the rye.

Happy Birthday to ME

I received the greatest present this year.  Not just for my birthday, but a true life gift.  I was surrounded by love in my home and from afar.  I was ushered in to this next year of life by people I love, respect, and aspire to be like.  I saw that I have acquired a family of amazing individuals who live their lives with integrity, are committed to seeing to the welfare of others, have clear purpose in their life, and are unguarded in sharing their love and affection.  Real true people who are flawed, imperfect creations.  People who accept and love other human beings in spite of and sometimes because of their flaws.  I know and have had proven to me that whatever God puts (or allows to fall) into my path I will be supported, uplifted and even carried along by people who believe in me.

My life is a trust fall and this week I landed blindly and safely in the arms of many.

Thanks to all of you.