Many years ago, we gathered under a small shelter from the heat of that blazing summer day.  We came in our flip flops, in our ordinary bodies, and in our extraordinary souls.  We came to say good-bye.  I was letting go of a
dream, a life-long dream that was not to be.  And I simply couldn’t do it by myself.  And so women came to sit
with me, to hold my hand, to whisper words of comfort that only my spirit, not my mind, could comprehend. Some sang.  Some cried with me.  Some simply sat quietly.
 
One friend, touched her hand to her own tears and then touched those tears to the ones on my face.  She said to me, “You shall not grieve alone.  You shall not experience this sorrow without the knowledge that we all feel your pain and by this sharing… we are found… even as all else feels lost.”
 
Today, I have learned that this friend in this moment is saying good-bye to her daughter.  Good-bye to her daughter whose life was snatched by an unintentional overdose of drugs.  How will my friend ever find her breath again?  How will my friend live when her heart is shattered?  How can our children be here one moment… so gorgeous and vibrant and challenging and endearing… and seconds later lost to what cannot be restored? How and why?  What happened?  How do the tragedies of life overwhelm the possibilities of life in such horrific
fashion?
 
And in this same day, my own child’s friend is saying good-bye to her grandfather.  And in this same day, another blessed friend of mine is mourning the loss of her family as members rend relationships with scarring words and ill wishes upon even the youngest.
 
And also today, I bear witness to the daily struggles so many face… those who are my family as well as those for whom I cannot call by name.  People are angry and frustrated and overwhelmed and poor and disenfranchised and enticed over and over and over again by that which sparkles but which falls apart in our hands.  We cannot understand why or how my friend’s daughter found herself turning to drugs when so much love lit her life.  But we must, we must, we must… return to the shelter, away from the sun and pray for our lives.  We must grow still and allow the tears of this day to rest as balm upon our troubled world.  
 
Life is good enough and hard enough to let go of anything and everything that does not restore the soul of our world.  I promise, this day, to stand truer to all that is loving and strong and kind and wise.  I promise to listen
to the whispers of my deepest self so that my own work builds up and blesses the work of all of those around me.  Aren’t we all just trying to find our way?  We are trying to find our way not towards the pot of gold or fame or superiority… but towards our own purest wonder? If we could just live the light inside of us… if we could simply trust our own goodness… then peace would come… so sweetly… so completely.  So, my friends, let us promise this day to cast more light than shadow… to resolve that our breath, our time on this earth is purposeful… and that purpose is for good.
 
This little bird has been outside of my window today.  She wasn’t interested in eating the seed in the feeder.  She simply needed a place to rest.  So she perched on the edge of the feeder, tucked her head inside her wing, and
slept.  Trucks rolled up and down the street.  Doors opened and closed.  Kids rode their bikes.  And all the while, she slept.  Perhaps she also dreamed or healed or hoped.  Maybe like me, or like my friend saying good-bye to her daughter and the friend of my child saying good-bye to her grandfather, or like my other friend mending from family scars… this little bird knew her truth and decided to set it free. May it be so.  May it be so.
 
For: B and K and N and for all the rest of us, too.

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.”