We all carry the weight of the world. Only for some of us it is a bit heavier. I’ve known only the grief of Pacha Mamma and shared in her tears for her children. It is so deep that it brings me to my knees. And so I have had to shift my empathy to joy. I have no other choice for my survival to try and hold a vibration of peace and joy. It is work. I have hormones after all. I have rage for injustice.
But I work on carrying this way so that it can hold as a possibility for others. That they too may know this feeling of living a life in peace. I have been turning to the news again recently and it always causes a downward spiral in my being. The children, especially the children are in such atrocious hell and suffering in parts of the world that tears well up just thinking of it. And so how do I get back?
I listen to Neil Young. I spend time with my family. I meditate and offer my prayers and songs. And I sometimes take up my newest hobby of following Promise of the Real, and listening to their music.
I was never one of those stalker type of girls, except once with a professor from UT that I was dating. He did live (sort of) on my route to work. Torrid passion is bound to burn out. It took hours of Pablo Neruda and tears at the ocean to get over that one. Luckily, I ended up with the love of my life. And I can’t imagine a better image for two blessed children of mine than to have an example of how a man can be in the world, how he can treat a woman. Nor, a better mirror for myself. Even so, I can still daydream right? And pretend that I am twenty again? Honestly, the thing about this band is that it makes me feel good to know that there are young men out there in the music industry that are keeping their integrity. You just know it when you see them live. It is so refreshing!! Women, we must dance to help heal ourselves and the broken parts, and this band makes me want to dance. Congas to my hips are like a snake charmer’s flute to a Cobra. They obey the command of the rhythm .
I wish for these young men that they continue to have or grow into the knowing of Beauty. Not on a superficial level, but the humble beauty that asks nothing of us. She is a pure gift and can be found on the breezes,waves, and haunting howls of coyotes. I wish that for all people and all of my loved ones. She is right there in the touch of a lover’s hand, a smile on an elder’s face, the light emanating from a baby’s eyes. And yet we argue and fear and doubt and whine about so much petty crap.
Go ahead and go to that weighted place. Feel and share in the world’s grief. Because on the other side of that is laughter and yes, forgetting. There always is a life line out of misery. If we can all reach out our hands to one being in need for the holidays, everyone can be lifted, even for a moment. So if you are feeling depressed like I have been these past few days, Act on your grief. Reach out and hug someone, smile at them, or empty some pocket change. Better yet, stop complaining to empty ears, but to the people that make policy. Hold a puppy or a baby. Eat a real meal made from loving hands and healthy ingredients. Take simple steps that lead to larger steps. And most importantly, be grateful.
I did steal this image by the way. The red tail is dear to my heart and shows up in my life as a reassurance.
But now I want to say to all the sacrificial turkeys in the world with your awkward pre-historic swagger, and your delicious tasting meat, thank you. May we gather around our tables and remember our gifts rather than our short comings. You are the ultimate symbol of the give away. You remind me to ask the question what can I give of myself? And the answer is this.