My brother, Chris, recently reminded me of how much he loves the song, “The Rainbow Connection.” And I found myself singing it on my walk today. “Why are there so many songs about rainbows and what’s on the other
side?” I think it came to mind because I’ve been looking at the sky with great melancholy lately. My heart has yearnings that are divine and mystical and of late, they feel like they are on the other side… the other side of something or somewhere. Will I ever find my husband, my life-mate? Will I find my being in a wideness that truly invites the creativity of my soul where the fulfillment of a calling becomes tangible? Will I live long enough to witness the eradication of cancer, of poverty, of division between human beings? Will I ever feel deep in my fiber that I am here, that I have found my place, my home, my ability to live fully as myself with joy?
I believe in those wholesome tenants of living in the here and now, of holding out a thankful heart in every circumstance, of holding fast to hope. But in this space, it feels like I am in between. It feels like I am not fully here or there. One foot stuck, the other foot reaching. The inevitable… not really a caterpillar, but not yet the butterfly. And here… it is difficult to feel whole or peaceful or content. So what is this? What is this funk that begs me to sell out and just stay tucked in the chrysalis? Why not be satisfied with status quo, with routine, with holding close only to let go? Why the yearning for something that feels ‘better’? Why keep dreaming? That’s
hard work!!
I am trying to sit with this angst. I am trying to make friends with this nighttime whisper that taunts me with restlessness and uncertainty. Aren’t there people out there who are all confident and zen and carefree? Aren’t there people out there just living large and not fretting about… well, a million things that could be or that are pounding on our hearts and brains? Why can’t I be like them? Why can’t I be satisfied with good enough… really thankful for what is right here and not be all in a wad about what I don’t have or don’t want to have? Do you get what I’m saying? Why, in the midst of ambiguity and discord and normal day to day… can’t I feel grounded and
glorious? Some days I do… let me recognize that… and I practice the teachings of time… but I (obviously) have not mastered the art of peaceful resolve in the midst of transition or transformation or this living in between two worlds. Remember that quotation something about… we are not human beings trying to be divine, rather we are divine beings trying to be human? Sometimes, I feel quite incapable of being human. I feel so much more at ease in the ethereal. Crazy, huh?
The comfort comes in that someone, at least one other person, gets where I am:
“Have you been half asleep and have you heard voices? I've heard them calling my name.
Is this the sweet sound that called the young sailors? The voice might be one and the same.
I've heard it too many times to ignore it. It's something that I'm supposed to be.
Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection.
The lovers, the dreamers and me.”
Romantic. Dreamer. Optimist. Innocent. Head in the clouds. Hippie chick. Mystic. Rebel. Artist. Seeker. Discontent. Unrealistic. Peacemaker. Who could be born of these? Who could spin all of these names around and rise up out of such paint to bless and heal and thrive? What could happen if we cracked the code of both/and… and flew even as our feet are tied to the ground? Can we walk through fire and be water? Can we be human and divine and learn the art of such a merger? Can we honor these whacky, bewildering moments when the voices are calling us to wake, and to rise…even as the world begs us to just do and be as we are told?
Today, I bow down to all of the lovers and dreamers. I thank you for holding fast, for keeping the light cupped warm especially when many of us grow weary and confused. Thank you for being the other voice in the night that says, “This, too shall pass, my dear. You are safe and nourished long prior to wings. Let what needs to come from this… come, and the rest will fall away. Keep listening. Keep roaming the dreams. The morning star will rise. Sight shall be restored and with it, understanding.”
“Who said that every wish would be heard and answered when wished on the morning star?
Somebody thought of that and someone believed it. Look what it's done so far.
What's so amazing that keeps us star gazing and what do we think we might see?
Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection.
The lovers, the dreamers and me.”
side?” I think it came to mind because I’ve been looking at the sky with great melancholy lately. My heart has yearnings that are divine and mystical and of late, they feel like they are on the other side… the other side of something or somewhere. Will I ever find my husband, my life-mate? Will I find my being in a wideness that truly invites the creativity of my soul where the fulfillment of a calling becomes tangible? Will I live long enough to witness the eradication of cancer, of poverty, of division between human beings? Will I ever feel deep in my fiber that I am here, that I have found my place, my home, my ability to live fully as myself with joy?
I believe in those wholesome tenants of living in the here and now, of holding out a thankful heart in every circumstance, of holding fast to hope. But in this space, it feels like I am in between. It feels like I am not fully here or there. One foot stuck, the other foot reaching. The inevitable… not really a caterpillar, but not yet the butterfly. And here… it is difficult to feel whole or peaceful or content. So what is this? What is this funk that begs me to sell out and just stay tucked in the chrysalis? Why not be satisfied with status quo, with routine, with holding close only to let go? Why the yearning for something that feels ‘better’? Why keep dreaming? That’s
hard work!!
I am trying to sit with this angst. I am trying to make friends with this nighttime whisper that taunts me with restlessness and uncertainty. Aren’t there people out there who are all confident and zen and carefree? Aren’t there people out there just living large and not fretting about… well, a million things that could be or that are pounding on our hearts and brains? Why can’t I be like them? Why can’t I be satisfied with good enough… really thankful for what is right here and not be all in a wad about what I don’t have or don’t want to have? Do you get what I’m saying? Why, in the midst of ambiguity and discord and normal day to day… can’t I feel grounded and
glorious? Some days I do… let me recognize that… and I practice the teachings of time… but I (obviously) have not mastered the art of peaceful resolve in the midst of transition or transformation or this living in between two worlds. Remember that quotation something about… we are not human beings trying to be divine, rather we are divine beings trying to be human? Sometimes, I feel quite incapable of being human. I feel so much more at ease in the ethereal. Crazy, huh?
The comfort comes in that someone, at least one other person, gets where I am:
“Have you been half asleep and have you heard voices? I've heard them calling my name.
Is this the sweet sound that called the young sailors? The voice might be one and the same.
I've heard it too many times to ignore it. It's something that I'm supposed to be.
Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection.
The lovers, the dreamers and me.”
Romantic. Dreamer. Optimist. Innocent. Head in the clouds. Hippie chick. Mystic. Rebel. Artist. Seeker. Discontent. Unrealistic. Peacemaker. Who could be born of these? Who could spin all of these names around and rise up out of such paint to bless and heal and thrive? What could happen if we cracked the code of both/and… and flew even as our feet are tied to the ground? Can we walk through fire and be water? Can we be human and divine and learn the art of such a merger? Can we honor these whacky, bewildering moments when the voices are calling us to wake, and to rise…even as the world begs us to just do and be as we are told?
Today, I bow down to all of the lovers and dreamers. I thank you for holding fast, for keeping the light cupped warm especially when many of us grow weary and confused. Thank you for being the other voice in the night that says, “This, too shall pass, my dear. You are safe and nourished long prior to wings. Let what needs to come from this… come, and the rest will fall away. Keep listening. Keep roaming the dreams. The morning star will rise. Sight shall be restored and with it, understanding.”
“Who said that every wish would be heard and answered when wished on the morning star?
Somebody thought of that and someone believed it. Look what it's done so far.
What's so amazing that keeps us star gazing and what do we think we might see?
Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection.
The lovers, the dreamers and me.”
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