June floats in, all vivid and warm, and flying the colors of summer. In her sky, hawks soar in great circles beneath huge whipped cream clouds. Iridescent damsel flies and butterflies flit through the irises and peonies. Leaves dance. The grass sings. Everything’s in motion. Children bare their feet and run across the lawns, whooping the sounds of freedom. June laughs at the boisterous welcome, unfolds her green wings and settles in, her gossamer gown swirling around her, hiding gifts in its folds for all.
C’mon, June! Bring on your romance, bring on your moon. Haul in those long summer days. Settle us into the green of things, into the barefoot warmth. Give us the whir of hummingbird wings, the flutter of leaves in an evening breeze, the crack of a bat hitting a ball, clear nights and starry skies. Bring on your leisure, bring on your ease. Stretch us out in your mellow. C’mon June. Bring it!
This past Memorial Day found me thinking about a beloved old friend of mine. He returned from Viet Nam with a heart full of pain, developed paranoid schizophrenia, and ended up hanging himself one cold, winter day.
All wars are tragic, taking their toll on our hearts and minds long after they have past. That, I believe, is the ultimate meaning of the day set aside to remember those who lives were lost in battles. It’s a message to us to keep trying, regardless of our history or the odds, to find better ways to solve our differences.
Synchronistically, last week I happened also happened across Eben Alexander’s book Proof of Heaven: A Neurosurgeon’s Journey into the Afterlife. If you have heard that near-death experiences are nothing more than illusion created by a dying brain, Dr. Alexander’s vivid description of his own near-death will seriously challenge your assumptions. Until he experienced it himself, he, too, was wholly skeptical about the reality of life after death.
Like most who have had a near-death experience, he struggles to find words to describe his own experience of what he says is so profoundly rich and beautiful that it cannot be put into the narrow framework of human language.
It’s a fascinating read. And I found comfort in it as I thought about loved ones who have died.
Anyway, I remembered my old friend, his extraordinary personality and brilliant mind – the one that I was privileged to see and know beneath his mental illness and his pain. I smiled inside, feeling that he somehow got the greeting my heart sent him and returned his own beams of love.
He was pretty convinced that the world was a dark and confusing place when he died, seeing it as being awash in danger and evil. As I read the daily headlines, I can understand how easy it might be to see things that way, and to lose hope, to lose sight of how fully goodness outweighs the evil in the world. Dr. Alexander says that evil exists so that we may experience free will and learn to use it wisely.
Yesterday, while I was driving through the countryside collecting photos, I drove through this tiny farm town, a village with a population under 400. To my surprise and delight, down the other lane of the highway that cut through the town came a parade! A color guard of four young teens led it, marching proudly in their Scouting uniforms, perfectly in step, solemnly bearing their flags. Next was a big tractor, driven by an old guy in a straw cowboy hat, pulling a float with a sign that proclaimed its occupant the Grand Marshall. He was even older than the man driving the tractor, grinning broadly and waving at the people who lined the highway. The Potato Queen rode the next float. And then there was the fire truck and a polished antique car and cheerleaders from the local high school. That was about the whole parade, and it looked like most of the village’s population had come out to cheer it.
I thought about how fairs and festivals and parades will be happening all over the planet as people celebrate the coming summer or, in the southern hemisphere, winter’s advent. Community still thrives.
I thought about all the young people graduating from high schools and universities this week, about all the young minds that are preparing themselves to be doctors and astronomers and teachers and artists, to explore the intricacies of math and science and the beauties of language and culture and the arts.
I thought about all the sports teams that play in the local fields, and all that kids will learn from participating in them about how to handle victory and defeat, about disciple and teamwork and striving to be your best. And that made me remember a video I saw this week about a brave young woman who became a champion gymnast even though she has no legs.
Yes, our world has its evils; but it is far richer in things that are good. And that’s true of each of our individual lives, too. We all have our crabby streaks, our shadow sides, and failings. But we learn from our unwise choices and keep reaching to be better, and stronger, and kinder, and to love more.
And in the end, it’s the plus side that will win out, no matter how dark things may sometimes appear.
Wishing you a week rich with awareness of life’s balance and beauty.
No matter how I dream of you when the nights are long and the air is devoid of song and frozen, you never fail to exceed my expectations. You come with your flowers and perfumed breath, with the songs of a thousand birds in tow. And the earth wakes and births miracles. And hope sings again in the morning skies, and love falls in raindrops and dances in the sun all around us. And I cannot help but think that I have tasted heaven in your hours. It is no wonder that the sky itself weeps at your going, no wonder that fresh flowers open to offer you their thanks. My own heart flowers with gratitude, too; my own eyes weep at your passing. But my tears are more in joy than sorrow, because you brought me hope, and life, and love. Farewell, sweet May. Until we meet again. Farewell.
Someday, eons from now, when you are sitting around a bonfire with fellows who rose from worlds afar, and they say to you, “Earth? What was that like?” may you tell them what the woods were like in spring, how, in the blink of an eye, plants the color of emeralds sprung from frozen soil in a thousand shapes and sizes at the feet of ancient trees. May you tell them of the flowers that wore all the colors of the sky, from its palest dawn to its most splendid sunset, and how bees collected their pollen to make honey and how butterflies floated among them in air sweet with soft perfumes and birdsong. Tell them how these things kept you true, how they made you believe in Goodness and in the Great Yes that gave rise to their being, and how their songs still live in your heart to this day.
The Asian Irises blossomed a week ago, just in time for my mother’s birthday. I remember thinking she would have loved their colors as much as I do. Each day, when I walk down to the bottom of the hill to fetch my mail, I stop to gaze at them. Yesterday, I was stunned to see nothing where they stood only the day before. Vanished. Every. Single. One. Not a petal remained, even on the ground. Yet, not a stem or leaf was broken or cut. The blooms were simply lifted upward and carried away. I have no explanation. But wherever they went, a piece of my heart went with them.
Find a refuge, a place of serenity where you can sit and breathe when life presses hard against you. Build one in your mind if need be, a quiet place, not too warm or cold, with a gentle breeze that carries sweet fragrances and birdsong. Then retreat there and absorb its peace and spaciousness until everything else melts away and you find yourself one with the sheer wonder of being, here, in the Mystery’s very heart.
Did you ever notice how you knew, before your choice registered in your mind, which option you’d choose? It’s not so much a matter of analysis, unless perhaps to ask what seems to align more with your purpose. It’s more a matter of checking in to see what you have already concluded. You can tell because it puts the suspense of it to rest. It sets you in motion, confident and eager, open to discover whatever lies ahead, just beyond what you can see. Something inside knows. And look where it’s led you!
When the hot winds blow, child, when the ice returns, when the world feels barren and bleak, in the midst of the darkest nights when fear or pain engulfs you, recall these petals, so soft and sweet, and remember how tender Love is.
A friend of mine had been struggling with some physical challenges for a couple weeks. One day, she got a card in the mail from a woman who missed seeing her in their usual meeting places. “You are stronger than anything life can bring,” the card said. My friend smiled broadly as she repeated the words again. They were, she told me, exactly what she needed to hear.
I don’t know about you, but I think that’s a powerful story. It’s so simple and unassuming. And it has such heart at its heart.
That’s really what we all want, after all. More heart in our days. We just want to care about each other and to know that we’re cared about, too. We just want to be neighbors, with greetings to exchange and a hand to lend when its needed. We just want to give, and to be met with, simple honesty and good will.
That almost sounds like a description of a fantasy world, doesn’t it? A tale from some alternative universe. And that’s a shame. And how we ache for it to be our reality!
I confess that I sometimes despair that we’ll ever get there. Some days, when I look around at the world’s current events, I think I must have died and landed in hell.
Then I go out and feed the birds and look at the sky. Maybe I connect with a friend. Maybe I hear a story that makes me laugh. Maybe I just happen to notice the way the sunlight falls across the lawn. Somehow, something happens that invites me to shift my awareness, to allow my sense of appreciation kick in. And bit by bit I’m learning how delicious it is to accept that invitation.
It’s not that I relinquish my knowledge of the world’s problems. I simply allow my images of them to broaden to encompass the aspects of the world, and of humanity, that are positive, and beautiful and strong.
I visit a wide variety of places on the internet over the course of a week. Several of them are live shows with viewers chatting on the side, or videos that allow viewers to post comments. They let me see a wide range of attitudes and thought and cultural shaping. It fascinates me. Over the last little while, maybe six months or so, I’ve begun to notice a new idea take hold and begin to grow. In a variety of ways, I hear people from different camps and tribes starting to say that they’re done with pointing out and fighting against the things that are wrong. Instead, they’re going to put their energy into thinking about how things could be, and to live their own lives with those things in mind as their guides. I smile every time I see someone say that’s their new plan. I think it’s the best one going.
One day a woman who lived as she wanted people to live sent a word of encouragement to a friend she missed seeing. “You are stronger than anything life can bring,” the card said.
Isn’t that a wonderful story?
Oh, and always remember those words from George Elliot, “It’s never too late to become who you always wanted to be.”
