On the flight home from DC, there was a slight young man who looked to be still in his teens. He was wearing a gray tee-shirt on which the following words were printed:
Returned from Iraq.
Go Army.
As I looked at his face, I saw that just one eye was open. The other was closed as if it was sealed shut. His face was blank.
The sight of this man-child, and the thought of all the others who have been caught up in the insanity of this war made me cringe. I forgot, in the moment, to bless him. I struggled to suppress my rage ... and became numb.
I have been in a mood. A very non productive mood. It was if someone had hit a stop button and just turned me off. As though my brain and spirit had just turned into mush.
The only thing I can point to that is some dental work I had done a few weeks ago, which even after two follow up trips to the dentist, has not resolved. It feels as though the new crown and filling are just too big, resulting in a constant feeling of pressure. A low ache that does not go away.
I'm not sure if this can explain my general lack of vigor and purpose ... or if something else is stirring.... or what brings about this general angst for which I feel guilty, when I have been given so much.
I know I am worried about my country, and about the freedoms that we have relinquished in order to feel safe. I, for one, do not feel safer. I am worried about what we are doing around the world ... And, I feel powerless to do anything about it.
So on a beautiful day in Southern California, I am trying to get out of this mood and trying to remember the feeling of connection ... the awareness of the Divine in every moment ... as if there was a physical umbilical cord which nourished my soul.
I remember when I saw the myriad manifestation of God in everything. In the face of every person I passed and in every evidence of life. In the green of the smallest plant and the wonder of tall trees as they reached for the sun.
I could hear the voice of the One in the squeals of children at play, the faint sound of the breeze as it danced through leaves, and even in the start of an engine on the next street. All of these sounds comforted me.
I loved to imagine the far reaching universe and look at the luminance of the planets and stars, in which I felt the essence of Power which filled the seeming emptiness of the space in between.
I remember while accomplishing a mundane task, being in the moment, and lost in bliss. But now I just feel lost and disconnected ... and have no patience with myself as I move through this experience.
Well, maybe if I am brave enough to put it out there and actually publish these words, I can get moving again. And maybe if I give voice to some of my dark thoughts I will find a direction.
Then maybe, once again, I will sit, grounded. One with the universe.
So, while sitting on the airplane at Dulles, after meeting Yvette's wonderful parents this last weekend, we are awaiting news of impending departure. Expecting to take off within moments, we are told that there is something wrong with one of the wings and repairs will soon be under way.
Unsure of the time the repairs will take, the pilot tells us that word is that it could take anywhere between a half hour to an hour and a half ... or if for some reason the wing could not be repaired, we would all be given overnight vouchers for hotels and rescheduled for a flight the next day.
After about an hour, the pilot announces that we are just waiting for the epoxy on the wing to dry. "Epoxy?" My mind did not get the joke ... and I start to become concerned about flying in an aircraft which is relying on glue to hold things together. I felt fear ... instead of the usual anticipation of the lift off to which I usually look forward.
My usual concern is that I might forget, and sing out loud the words that ordinarily fill my mind at that time. "Up in the air, Junior Birdmen. Up in the air upside down!"
Of course, after being reasured that the wing is really held together by nuts and bolts and not epoxy, I had to quietly sing the words because the feeling of being on a plane as it first takes to the air, is still really amazing.
As you all must have surmised by now, we made it.
TO ESTHER and TODD
Happy Anniversary to you.
This wish comes from your Mom & Dad too. :-)
HAPPY 12TH ANNIVERSARY
MIKE and MICHELE
We're all thinking of you
and sending love. :-)
So. On a particularly bad hair day, two days after futilely trying to reach my hairdresser, I started chopping. As mounds of hair fell around me, I felt better. Lighter somehow.
The extent of the damage was only realized when I looked in the mirror the next day. OMG! What have I done? The realization did nothing to lift me out of the neverland where I have been residing of late.
Today, I was finally able to see the stylist. Why? She asked. What could I say?
She tried to repair the damage, at least even it out, but her efforts seem to have made it worse. Well. Hair grows. At least that is what I am trying to tell myself.
Hello. Good Thursday.
I have been stuck, so instead of being completely silent, I have decided to shamelessly borrow Amanda Congdon's greeting from Rocketboom.
This serves to let my 5 regular readers know that I am still alive.