Which character are you?

Which protagonist from the past month most describes where you are in your life?

§  A Maccabee, finding your resources are nearly gone and needing a miracle

§  Frosty, with either some healthy or ugly parts of you disappearing

§  A shepherd, herding your family, friend, or clients within safe boundaries

§  A sheep, following the crowd or wandering off and needing to be found

§  Santa, keeping track of things and/or doing all the giving

§  Herod, insecure and scrambling to hold on to power

§  Judah, full of preparations to rededicate an altar in your life or heart

§  Mary, who said “Yes” and listened to her heart instead of saying, “What?!”

§  Joseph, remaining steadfast and in the background

§  An innkeeper, who has already taken in more than your share

§  Rudolph, taking the lead because others are struggling

§  A donkey, carrying a load that is both heavy but meaningful

§  Elizabeth, resigned to not having what you long for

§  Ebenezer, allowing the past to control and dictate your present and future

§  A Wise One, following a dream, with purpose, and in community

§  A citizen of Whoville, keeping the faith even when surrounded by grinches

§  A baby, starting fresh

We look at a New Year as a beginning.  Think about which of the above you would like to be as we prepare to turn the page and consider doing one thing today in that role as a foreward to Chapter 1 that starts at midnight.

May each day in 2013 provide the storyline of our lives with enough drama (so there is purpose), humor (so there is relief), interesting characters (so we are engaged), mystery (so we search), action (so we move forward), joy (so we celebrate), and peace (so we rest).

Marilyn

Lasts (final in a trilogy)

It ain’t over ‘til it’s over.
                        …American proverb

Students learn that creating art of any kind involves the concept of resolution.  A similar view in mathematics is that there are conclusions.  We observers learn to recognize that the final chord of the Hallelujah Chorus and the Pythagorean Theorem and Bugs Bunny’s “That’s all, folks!” represent different types of resolutions, conclusions, endings.  We trust that in the last chapter of a story the issues between characters will get settled and that the mystery gets solved.   Other finales in our lives have us waving goodbye at the airport and cheering for the last runner in a marathon.   We drink the last dregs in the cup, celebrate when all the pieces of a puzzle fall into place, get irritated at someone who always has to get in the last word, and feel bad when being the last one picked for the team.  If we are so honored, we can hold someone’s hand while they breathe their last.

Lasts mark an ending but they also mark accomplishments.  Scientists responsible for the successful landing of the Mars rover now move on because their part of the project is over after years of study, planning, and testing.  Sometimes we think we understand a last and what will come after.  Johnny Carson’s last Tonight Show commemorated his transition into retirement, but I thought we would see him again, just in a different venue.  Bette Midler’s rendition of Johnny Mercer’s lyrics, “We’re drinking, my friend, to the end of a brief episode.  Make it one for my baby and one for the road,” was memorable and said there was still a long road ahead.  But there wasn’t.

Yesterday was the last Sunday in Advent, but Advent gives way to Christmas.  On the calendar we are approaching the end of the year, but we just celebrated the solstice and the beginning of winter.  Because of the culmination of circumstances over the past few years I have to move.  As I prepare to leave my home of nine years I am noting other things on the calendar, symbolizing many ‘lasts.’  Some, like changing the filter in the furnace for the last time remind me of things I won’t miss. Others, like decorating for my last holiday season here have been poignant, and still others, like last dinner parties with different friends, have been fun to plan and led to memorable evenings.

 

T.S. Eliot wrote, “In my end is my beginning.” Yes, firsts lead to lasts and lasts lead to firsts.  My current dilemma is that while I recognize there is a beginning on my horizon, I’m not there yet.  I’ve had to focus on the ending for a very long time without the benefit of knowing the details of the beginning.  I am trusting that soon I can start looking for a new home and then jump into all the planning that will come with that change. 

We’ve all had some ‘last’ that was imposed on us.  Whether it was a surprise break-up or being downsized, we discovered that we liked ‘lasts’ much better when they were of our own making.  Regardless of how we arrived at an end, the best lesson I’ve learned and which I’ve tried to emulate during this difficult time is summed up in a quote from Robert Louis Stevenson: “True wisdom is to …change with good grace in changing circumstances.”  

If there is a ‘last’ in your world, if the ground under your feet is shifting, OR, if as we approach the New Year you would like to have a change in your circumstances in some way, then look for the true wisdom inside yourself and follow what your heart and gut tell you.  Oh, and remember, whether you’re in a ‘first,’ in the solid ‘in-between,’ or, like me, in the middle of a ‘last,’ you don’t have to be alone.  That’s part of the message of Christmas.

Marilyn

In-between (second in a trilogy)

We spend most of our lives in-between.  Phases of our lives are marked by firsts and lasts, but we settle in to the security of the daily routines that make up our weeks, months, and years.  We each develop a rhythm for our normal in-between.  For some, it is a rushed pace, getting everywhere at the last possible minute, while others, at least outwardly, have a steady step-by-step life.  Sure, there are highs and lows, planned and unexpected breaks from the usual, but, for example, we know that a wedding does not make a marriage.  It is what comes before and after that one day, the in-between, that is important. 

This week we were brutally reminded about firsts, in-betweens, and lasts.  As a people we will soon see child and adult coffins symbolizing an end. Some will repeat words that have been said for centuries, words intended to comfort while experiencing a last.   For many, a new normal will contain a deep grief that has yet to arrive amid the busy-ness of the trauma, and families are beginning a yearlong journey of firsts – the first Christmas without, the first birthday date when the person is not there.

I was a kindergartner and had just gotten home from school for lunch when billows of smoke appeared in the sky and panic hit the neighborhood, and by the end of the first part of the story 15 classmates died.  So I know firsthand something about what is going on in Connecticut.   (you can Google Cleveland Hill School fire if you are interested or click here to read some of the gruesome event http://www.talkingproud.us/Culture/CleveHillFire/page84/CleveHillFireAftermath.html ). 

My trauma was in an era when there was no film coverage, no recorded emergency calls to be replayed over and over.  There were no busses of psychologists who rushed to help a community deal with disaster.  We simply put it behind us and never talked about it.  When classes resumed after the fire we did not talk about the part of the building that was rubble, about the smell, about the fact that we doubled up classes, and certainly we did not mention the names of those no longer there.  It was rare for friends who had been at the school to talk about that day.  When they did, it was about facts – we sang “Columbia, the gem of the ocean as we marched into the auditorium” – not about feelings. We know better today.  We know that drama and trauma need to be talked about, and even better, adults have resources on how to help the children as well as themselves process what they are feeling and experiencing.

We have all suffered terrible things during our life of the in-between.  Some of us had theirs played out on a more public stage.  And now it is the holidays, something that presents a challenge to many even without additional external stressors.  What we all have in common regardless of where we are on our journey in the in-between is that we are looking for hope.  Anne Lamott wrote, “Hope begins in the dark, the stubborn hope that if you just show up and try to do the right thing, the dawn will come.  You wait, and watch, and work: you don’t give up.”  This week as you put one foot in front of the other, as you try to do the right thing, whatever that means for you, may you find hope. When you do, take a minute to share it with a fellow traveler, for remember that for most of our in-betweens we do not need to be alone.

Marilyn

Firsts

My brother’s first word was “rrr-rrr” for railroad.  According to my baby book, mine was more predictable (“mama”).   We remember some special firsts.  That first kiss (George), first car (Ladybug, a red beetle), first plane ride (a propeller plane from Buffalo to Schenectady for my first all summer job at Camp Pinnacle).   For some reason I recall not my first day of school but my first punishment although I do not remember the infraction.  In kindergarten, Mrs. Engel made me sit in the kneehole of her desk during story time.

Many of us are at a time in our lives for a different type of firsts. This weekend I returned to Wheaton College for a holiday concert and entered Edmund Chapel for the first time in more than four decades.  Now, I’ve been on the campus several times over the years, driven through and seen new structures and the new crop of students, but had not been inside any of the familiar buildings. As I sat on a blue cushioned seat close to the front on the right side, snippets of memories of being in that majestic space played in my mind.  

I recalled orientation week and marching with all new students in the Parade of the World – me with people from New York, my roommate with those from Illinois and future friends under banners of Canada or Africa.  As I looked at the grand piano I remembered playing a Mozart concerto on it (well, more likely, a predecessor).  As the choirs marched down the aisles, I could summon up what it felt like to be walking up the stairs and settling on to the risers on stage and looking out at the audience.   

Going to Wheaton had been my first major step of faith based on what became of lifelong philosophy that continues to ground me today – if you do what you’re supposed to be doing, things work out.  I didn’t know anyone at Wheaton, but it felt right at the time to go there.  Three years later it felt right to leave.  It was a painful parting. I didn’t have the words then, but I sought social justice and, while others found it there, I no longer did.  There was also the practical issue of not wanting to take out another student loan when I didn’t know what I wanted to do after graduation.  So I stepped out on my own again and began my professional life.

While a ‘first’ may open a new door, it is how we handle what is behind that door that defines us.  Yes, there was a first piano lesson at age six, but it was the years of practice that led to being able to perform on that stage.  Yes, there was the audition the first week of college that led to a notice in the mailbox inviting me to be one voice among the selected many. Yes, Wheaton had been the right place for a portion of my journey.

So my trip to a Christmas concert turned out to be a pilgrimage. Walking through the big white door into the foyer and then the double doors into the chapel after all these years was healing.  In this Advent time of waiting, I encourage you to think about any firsts that may call to you.  Whether it is the first time you’ve jumped rope since you were eight, or the first time you’ve reached out to your best friend in high school since you parted ways, or the first time you tried to replicate grandma’s recipe for latkes, make a pilgrimage of your own.  Even if you trip on the rope, don’t hear back from your friend, or burn the potatoes, these ‘first time since…’ moments really can open a new door.

Marilyn

The Other Shoe

Do you ever wonder about the one shoe lying on the highway?  For years I’ve thought about the possibility of a coffee table book of photographs of that single shoe in the middle of the expressway, the sneaker on the side of the road, the Mary Jane in the gutter.  A part of that book would be stories to explain how someone loses one shoe out of a moving car, and how long it was before the owner discovered it was missing, and what the wearer did with the one remaining shoe.

Usually when we think about ‘the other shoe’ it is in the context of waiting for it to drop.  We’ve all had those strings of events in our lives where we sense the bad luck is not over and we wait for the next awful thing to happen.  Sometimes we even get jaded and shrug off the flat tire, the unexpected bill, the bad cold with a ‘of course, it was bound to happen’ and ‘poor me’ attitude.  You probably know someone who doesn’t truly enjoy a good thing because they believe that just around the corner is ‘the other shoe’ which will bring calamity, despair, and trouble, the guaranteed partner of a joy.

Yesterday was the first Sunday in Advent, a liturgical and personal time of waiting.  Most spiritual journeys and faith traditions have times of waiting and collectively we are currently waiting for more than a babe in a manger.  We long for and anticipate the peace that was proclaimed, the good-will-to-all about which we seasonally sing, the star to direct those seeking reconciliation.  What can we do – together and individually – during this time of waiting to ensure that when that other shoe does drop we can and do welcome it with grace?

Whatever we are waiting for – peace of mind, contentment, grace, the inner awareness of simple abundance – it will surely come to us, but only when we are ready to receive it with an open and grateful heart.
                …Sarah Ban Breathnach

Blessed Advent!
Marilyn