Good morning October 26th.
What? Where did the summer and early fall go? Summer
was kicked off with Soren's first birthday, which was immediately followed with
a whirlwind of non-stop travel and family visits. I came back to a spinning
fall, a giant opera monster project, and here I am coming up for air – much needed
air, time to digest thoughts and emotions so many to number. It has occurred to
me so many times how last summer was different than every other summer so far.
Why? Because it was marked by Soren's first birthday. This little beautiful
being has changed the course of what was to what is. From now on summer will always
begin with Soren's birthday. It seems to be a simple thought on one level, but
so profound on another. Sometimes it is these little changes that effect
another small change and suddenly a world is transformed.
Traveling so much and seeing family in many places
was wonderful and terrible too. I realized how my daily routine at home really
facilitates a strong spiritual practice. Each moment has its place and is
accounted for. There are bedtimes and school bus hours – they give us a framework
and dead line, so to speak – to fit in what is important. When that is gone,
there is a certain freedom, but a certain loss too – a loss of structure and
discipline, which in short spurts is exhilarating and fun. But over time it can
lead to a sense of ennui. I began to
feel this at the end of summer after long days in Paris, many responsibilities
of entertaining and training children all day, and tending to elderly grandparents
who need shopping and meals. The tasks and activities were many, but without
that clear framework there seemed to be less motivation and less satisfaction.
I missed singing and writing and our two dogs. I had
several moments of inspiration with thoughts on what to write, but somehow they
were never realized. It is that funny little irony: when you have more time (but
unstructured) one sometimes accomplishes much less than with a structured, busy schedule.
Nonetheless, it was a wonderful summer. We began at
the beach in North Carolina, then moved on to Northern Michigan. On our way home
we had an especially meaningful visit after so many years at my Aunt Suzanne's home.
We were blessed with good food and many new plants. We came back to Richmond
very briefly. I sang at a gala in DC, and we headed off to France. We did some
mountain climbing in the Alps for two weeks and then finished up our trip in
Paris for three weeks.
On one of these long summer days in Park Montsouris, I
had a particularly interesting conversation with a young Muslim man. It was a
beautiful day and I had set up my yoga mat and many toys for Soren on the grass nearby.
Pierson was playing independently at a nearby playground and checking back from time to
time. This young man was with a couple of buddies and they were chillin’ in the
sun. One was playing Pokémon Go (all the rage in Paris). I began to talk with
him about his faith and thoughts – thoughts on the terrorist attacks in
particular. He said, as one might expect, that he did not agree with these
terrorists, but he said a particularly telling statement: "Chacun pratique
sa religion comme il le voient." Hmmm, “Each person practices his religion
as he sees fit.” Yes, but...if they see fit to kill innocent people because of how
they practice their religion, do we not have a certain responsibility to
intervene? At what point do we allow freewill (his perspective), and at what
point do we say not OK? He also told
me that he believes that Donald Trump and Barrack Obama are both Zionists, by
which he meant people who are aligned with the Jewish people want to control and
dominate the world. This is coming from a young, healthy, vibrant, French Arab college
student. Wow, my mind is blown! Imagine trying to convince anyone in this country,
particularly now in this acrimonious voting season, that Trump and Obama are actually
in cahoots. To be honest, I am not sure what it all means, but it is a
testament to how our own perspectives form in part our experience of reality,
and how vastly different those realities can be.
Back in Richmond I continued to pour my heart and
soul into the monster opera. The monster is not kind and nurturing and supportive. The
monster takes and takes and asks for more. In the end he notices the lacunas first and
criticizes what is wrong, not noticing all the rights and the goods. I push through to the end.
There is success but not without a price. I feel tangled inside. My small, broken
child wants to be loved and supported and told I have your back. I feel
unsettled, unresolved. I am constantly apologizing, trying to please everyone
and yet I feel a lack of respect, under-appreciated.
I reached out to a spiritual advisor at the end of it
all. Now that the monster is gone, I want a new challenge – maybe the gold
standard 10 mala bead prayers a day. He replies with a small bit of advice:
"It should come from an inner inspiration." There it is, put so
simply yet just what I needed to hear in that moment. The window opens, the air
is fresh and pure. I can see clearly once again. I have been giving, reaching
and striving, pouring out and desiring to be filled up, and yet I am left empty,
dissatisfied, and perhaps a bit sad. I sit, close my eyes and begin my deep
prayers. My mind and breath soften, and gently I am coaxed and lulled back to the
truth. My support is there; it is holding me within. It was always there, but I
let it go. I was looking outside, caught in the illusion for what can only
truly be found within. He is filling me up, holding me, supporting me, loving
me. My Lord never left me, and others cannot take his place. The more I long
outside, the lonelier I become. I know this, but I forget. I come back and I am
reminded of the truth once again. All the longed-for explanations, empathetic
comments and acts of kindness disappear. I am fine. I do not need from the outside
world right now, and I can rest within. I am home once again.
