I don’t have much time to write, but I wanted to reflect on the sense of discontent I feel entering into this summer season.  More than anytime before, perhaps because of the turmoil of the present time, from oil spills to a huge business closing in town, to the fragile nature of health care in this country on which our livelihood depends.  I hate feeling unsure and nervous, but I also know that some of the greatest shifts in my life were precipitated by very hard times.  I hold my breath a lot as I move day-to-day into the future, glad I made it intact through one more day.  That is what faith is for I guess, and if things were peachy all the time, we’d never have to gird our loins and throw down exactly what we claim we’re made of as people of faith.  I will be a better woman because of it and I keep repeating over and over to myself while I make it up this particularly slippery slope…”All things shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well”  It keeps my eye on the horizon and not down, where I’m sure I’d be struck with vertigo at the sheer height of the climb.

 I was thinking today about the men in my house.  Most of the time they drive me absolutely nuts.  I attribute this partially to the fact that I have an abnormally high aptitude for common sense and they have none. at. all.  Which pretty much leaves my facial expression locked in complete incredulity all the time.  Why?  Because sweaty underwear should never end up on my kitchen counter, toilets should never be left to overflow in the presence of all three of them unnoticed, and they can wipe their boogars on the wall, but are too squeamish to load dirty dishes into the dishwasher.  That being said, they are all remarkable in their own way. 

When I think of the men in my house I think of the parable of the tithes, where three servants are given part of their master’s wealth to protect and improve while the master is away.  Steve and my eldest son are perfect examples of this.  They take whatever gift they have and magnify it ten fold.  Steve told me once that he wishes that he could just do his job and never have to deal with payment.  He is passionate about leading people to health and wellness and knows more about the technical aspects of the nervous system than anyone I’ve every met.  He gets thrilled about attending seminars about blood pathogens and the impact on the nervous system.  His mind is formidable when it comes to pharmacological contraindications , genetics and nutritional effects on the spine and nervous system.  I think he is just saddened that so few people care to understand their bodies or are willing to trust his judgement when he tells them that he can indeed help them, but it might mean uncomfortable life changes and behaviors and committment to following through.  I don’t think his mind computes this phrase “I won’t do it if my insurance doesn’t cover it”  which loosely translates to “my body isn’t worth it”, “I want solutions, without changing my behavior” or the one that hurts the most “you’re not worth it, I can go somewhere cheaper”  What they don’t realize is that he gives 100% to each patient he works with, even if that means after hours, on weekends and holidays and at our home.  He has taken every gift he has been given and multiplied it a million times over, all with a laugh and a kind word.

For my oldest, he is that old soul who continually wanders off the beaten path to find new and interesting things just to share them with others.  He has a brilliant intellect and while it may be unconventional, exercises it every day in the hopes of becoming one of the worlds great innovators.  He is passionate about all things future.  He is awe-struck everyday with how unlimited the human imagination is and truly believes that if you can imagine it, you can make it.  Yet, he also knows the loneliness of innovation in a world that doesn’t really like to think outside of the box.  He told me once when tired of being the victim of the male posturing  that comes with adolescence, “I don’t care about being king of the hill, why can’t they just leave me alone?”  He unabashedly dances when he hears a great song, and most often couldn’t care less that other kids his own age who are so fearful of judgement they barely move without someone’s approval.  Yet at times it does wear him down, so that he hides inside our house with computers or the novel he is writing.

And to my youngest who is afraid to take the gifts he’s been given and bring them into the world.  I don’t know why he has so many fears…he’s smart, good looking, funny and incredibly athletic.  Somehow, he has allowed others to limit his potential by telling him that he’s no good.  He is naturally quiet and somewhat shy, and perhaps shadowed by the glorious personalities of this father and brother…its hard to compete with those who seem to be unafraid.  What I wish he could see is that we all have gifts we are given to bring to the world, and that this uncomfortable place he’s in right now will pass.  Trials can lead to great success if you let them.  Mom isn’t a credible source for him right now, and I understand that.

What I do want to do to those who try and harm these gifted, yet truly complicated,  ADD men is put my super hero cape on and beat the living crap out of anyone who tries to take advantage of their generosity and purpose in this life.  They may drive me absolutely mad, but I also see the potential in them to bring greatness to this world.  I. see. them…when the rest of the world may not.  I stand for them when no one else does.  I will be a testament to the gifts God gave them even when they do not.  That is my greatest gift, to see ahead and pave the way to the goodness that I know is coming.

For the last couple of weeks I’ve been thinking a lot about dancing, and how much the precision and beauty of it relies on an internal sense of rhythm as well as learning to hear the beat of the music that is playing.  The music must inspire our bodies to move with its flow, and for many people, that is the most difficult part.  Perhaps that ‘s why so much of dancing is done with low lights, or barely any light at all.  People are afraid they would be judged for our awkward attempt at interpreting the music.  It really shouldn’t be, though.  I remember how my children used to dance with abandon when they were little, these days, they pale at the thought of it.  Maybe that’s how fearful many people are about moving through life, we hear the beat of the music, our internal sense tells us to move…but then it stops there because we don’t want to be judged for it.  That makes me sad.  Perhaps if we let ourselves move to the music within, more of our problems would simply disappear.  This week I know I’ve felt judged a few times for how I move through life and I don’t like it…but it certainly doesn’t mean I’ll stop moving.  I’m not sure anyone hears the same rhythm that I do, so I’m responsible to move to the music I hear.  Most of my downfall lies in remembering to stop and listen, to really hear the melody and remove the white noise that covers the beat of my soul.  When I can’t hear, I don’t know how to move, and I end up stepping on toes.  That and moving through life dancing is so much more interesting that stiffly marching forward.

Although this picture was taken in the throes of winter, when I think of hell, I think of this moment stuck in -30 degrees farenheit.  Dante wasn’t all wrong when his final circle of hell was portrayed as ice.  After my poopy day, I decided that having excremental vision was similar…just remove the ice from my hair and eyelashes and replace it with poo.  I think we can all learn from the shit that happens in our lives.  I learned the other day that I’m intolerant of other people’s stupidity, which isn’t always a good thing.  I attribute this to my high aptitude for common sense…like appreciating simple cause and effect.  For example, if you eat fast food all the time, your health will deteriorate, and it isn’t a defect in the new car that hurts your back, it’s because you’re too fat to fit behind the steering wheel without moving the seat back at an awkward angle…and just because you were a star running back in highschool doesn’t mean that 35 years later, you can still consider yourself physically fit.   I usually have no sympathy for someone like that, and I felt foul afterwards.  How can you help someone who refuses to see the real picture?  Well, you can’t with my no filter approach.  So I used my excremental vision to ease him toward a better explanation and swallow the sassy remarks that oh so begged to roll off my tongue.  You can move people more with honey than vinegar.  We all have our blind spots, where the poo covers our sight.  I’m hoping that by seeing through others I will have a clearer recognition of my own.

Sometimes, there is no better word to describe the totality of my feelings in a day for just about everything….than the word, poop.  I’m tired of dealing with other people’s excess poop because no one taught them how to clean up for themselves…literally and figuratively.   You consume it, you deal with what comes after.  The crappier the quality of what you take in, the more disgusting the waste…end of story.  It is also what is spewing out the mouths of many individuals trying to justify bad choices of consumption…to teachers, though your children are in the throes of puberty, without a properly functioning frontal lobes, and are actually supposed to be distracted and immature, you are a trained and paid professional so deal with it,  and to the 13 year-old who while has limited emotional functioning…if you continue to disrespect said professionals, the end result will not be good..even a dog can understand that, and to the grown adult who is begging for the “magic hands” of the doctor who won’t schedule until I check his insurance for him even though the phrase “his insurance” is a clear indication that it is within the realm of his responsibility and not mine and when I smile at his comment “I certainly ain’t gonna pay for it” it wasn’t out of politeness it was because I already know he will pay….big time and that gives me some solace.  On a global level, after seeing what our gulf looks like after millions of gallons of oil spew into it, it is hard to not see our future in the same brown colored poopy hue.  And finally to all the poop that is lodged within my sinuses…you’re taking my off my A game…so beware of the salt water I am blowing up there and the vitamins and minerals I am consuming because your time to plug me up is limited.  The upswing to this general malaise?  At least I know that I’m not full of it.

I used to ponder how the grace bestowed by Christ’s great sacrifice enhanced my life more that someone who didn’t really care or believe in its power.  Not that I’ve come to any great revelation, I’m sure it is one of those mysteries that I will be pondering forever, I do have some thoughts on the matter.  One of my favorite philosophical pictorial, is Plato’s allegory of the cave.  I used to think that faith in the grace of the holy spirit was what separated us from those shackled prisoners who couldn’t see that the shadows on the wall were anything but illusion.  Somehow, the spirit that was gifted to us broke our chains and freed us to see the greater world outside.  Now that I’m older, I’m not sure I believe that anymore.  I think grace does exist, and does free us from illusion, but it demands that we let go of all we think we know about this world we call real.  I see many Christians that have created another set of shadows  and chains that are as illusory as the first set.  I think the true gift of grace is a greater sight that only comes if we are willing to let go of everything we think we know and be open to a greater truth.  I don’t think it comes as easy as accepting Jesus into your heart…we would be a much wiser people if that were the case.  There are too many atrocities that still occur in the name of that very grace to make it credible for me.  The world outside of the shadows has to be better than just a different scenario where one group of puppeteerstakes the place of another.  I will take a leap and say that status has nothing to do with breaking those chains.  It is the faith in things that I can’t see that takes us out of the cave, and the courage to see…really see a greater world.   The only way to do that is to let go of our own personal illusions, which is hard because we all cling to certain beliefs.  That doesn’t mean I throw my ideology out the window…but it does mean that I have to be willing, at the very least, to believe that perhaps it is so much more than I think it is right now at this moment.  Grace challenges us to grow with every insight, to change with every lesson and move with an open mind into the future.  Some times that is scary, especially when so much of Christianity these days seems preach righteousness over love.  It makes me sad how judgemental and condemning it has made us.