Remember Always

Out on the deck late last night, Tom and I gazed at the stars, finding the Big Dipper and a faintly visible Little Dipper. The night was lovely, with a refreshing breeze that was reminiscent of the day's warmth. I was suddenly filled with a rush of memories of my father -- how he would take us up to the roof of our summer cabin as children and we would lay on our backs marveling at the beauty of the stars.  He would point out the Big Dipper, explaining how to find the North Star and from there, the Little Dipper.  My father was a fascinating storyteller and always had Native American legends or poems about each constellation that kept us in rapt attention.

Memorial Day weekend was always our first big picnic at the cabin, when extended family would join us for cookouts, hikes in the woods, campfires with s'mores and when it got dark, the
ever-exciting "torch walk". My dad would lead all the children on a "scary" walk through the woods and point out the "gnome trees", telling his signature stories to make everything seem mysterious and magical. 

During the day, one of our favorite activities was hiking to the pine woods, which involved walking through the farmer's field at the edge of the woods for what seemed like miles (my dad would often carry me on his shoulders when I was very young).  Once there, we were enchanted by the soft energy and lovely scent of the tall pines as we strolled through a path that led to a large open meadow where we would often build a fire and cook hotdogs for lunch.

On July 4th, there were fireworks and sparklers, sleeping bags under the stars and ghost stories by campfire late into the night.  My mother and I would plant flowers and have long chats on the deck in the early morning, when the younger children were still asleep.  So many memories... 

Our cabin on the hill still stands; my brother recently put on a new roof and a pretty little deck near the fire pit.  Last week, we gathered the families for an appropriately distanced outdoor picnic to say goodbye to my brother and his wife as they move to their retirement home in Kentucky.  We dug a hole under the beautiful shade tree that my parents planted as a sapling long ago and buried some of each of their ashes as I read a quote by Kahlil Gibran:

"Mourn me not with the color of black, but dress in color and rejoice with me...talk not of my departure with sighs in your hearts, close your eyes and you will see me with you forevermore..."

Whoever it is that you remember on this Memorial Day, whether it is someone who died in battle or fought bravely and returned from a war to build a rich life, as my father did, trust that they will live on in your heart and can be recalled in memory forever.

The Gift of Individuality

"We are all One" is a phrase that we hear quite a bit of these days.  Even the car commercials are parroting this catchphrase, along with "we're all in this together" and many others that I have begun to think of as Covid-19 lingo. The advertising industry seems to be using this shared experience as a way to tug on our heartstrings in an effort to sell more products, which I can't fault them for, because that is just what they do.  But it does make me think about the nature of experience itself.  While it is true that we are all interconnected and should always have an awareness of how what we do impacts those around us, I am reminded this morning that each one of us is a unique being who has an individual life experience.

 Out walking on this rainy morning, I feel the soft raindrops on my face and see the early light diffusing through muted gray clouds in a way that will never happen again precisely the same. I hear a bird chorus that is composed only for this morning, this moment in time, and I realize what a gift it is, not only to be alive with all my senses, but to be having an experience that no one else is having in exactly the same way at exactly the same time. My perception is mine alone. The gift that God has given, to me, to each of us, is to simply be me and to express my individuality to others in a way that in some small way, enriches their lives  and the world around me.

I remember reading a book on quantum physics once and, while I admit, my understanding of the difficult concepts was limited, one thing struck me as profound: because an infinite universe has no center and extends in all directions eternally, any given point could actually be considered the center, from which everything extends. So, in essence, each one of us might be considered to be the center of the universe, with no one "center" being more significant than any other.  I may be interpreting what I read differently than an astrophysicist would, but it makes sense if you think about it long enough.

 I realize this is the kind of stuff that can make your head spin a little if you ponder it too long, but I think the message that we can take with us, for today, the message that I will hold in my heart, is that I am a uniquely created being, cherished by a loving God, who, miraculously, amazingly, sees me and each one of us as significant parts of an intricate web of life.

Breathe deeply, use all you senses, be mindful, cherish the gift of your uniqueness...

This Golden Moment

I am trying to feel hopeful this morning and finding it difficult, I admit. Spring flowers are in bloom, but winter refuses to loosen its icy grip, giving us snow this past weekend as a nasty Mother's Day joke. I'm sure I'm not alone in feeling restless, two months into our virus-induced societal lockdown, with governments contemplating the great "re-opening", but none of us having any real understanding of whether it's safe to come out yet.  There is so much unknown...we don't want to live in fear, but we also know that acting foolishly can endanger our health and possibly our lives.  As always, when I'm feeling confused and a little afraid, I find that spending time in prayer and meditation, while not always providing the clear answers I'm looking for, at least gives me peace.

So this morning, I breathe deeply, taking life-giving oxygen into my lungs, thankful for this gift.  I turn within, releasing anything that hinders my connection to the Divine - all sadness, anger, frustration, anxiety or guilt, letting all float away like bubbles that dissipate in the air.  I give thanks for this new day, for life itself, as strange and sad as it can be sometimes. I open myself up to what is - the great "I am", the Source of all being. I focus on the word "One" and repeat this word over and over again, to keep the incessant chatter of my mind at bay.  I let my thoughts go and find my calm center.

Suddenly, the dawn breaks...I have turned on the lights in my spirit and am filled with a sense of peace and renewal.  Nothing external matters now, in this golden moment when my heart is open to Love.  From this point of peace, I turn outward, to family, praying for each one as the Spirit guides.  Then outward, further, my prayers go-for light where there is darkness, health where there is sickness, love where there is hatred, hope where there is despair. How much my small prayers can do I do not know, but I trust that there are many others praying at this exact moment in time and imagine that angels will be summoned to heal all that needs healing in the world.

Today, I vow to cling to "whatever is excellent or praiseworthy" and to replace fear with faith.