"...but that's not the reason why I'm lookin'...
I need a reminder of what I'm doing
I need a reminder that I'm still human"
Something wonderful happened to me as I walked down the Hanover Street hill on my way to the gym.
I had several themes, concerns, and preoccupations banging around in my head, clattering around like a set of keys forgotten in the dryer...The existence of God, my reluctance to call it God, the fate of society and humanity in general; my uncertain financial future, my own purpose and direction...And just as those words were being sung through the ear-buds of my minidisc player, I looked up...
...and saw a shooting star. It streaked across the dark early-morning sky for one precious second and then it was gone.
I felt a deep sense of gratitude welling up within me, filling my heart.
"Thank you," I whispered, my eyes misting up with tears. "Thank you for letting me know that you're THERE."
Or among us.
Part of us.
Even though I don't know what to call you.
Or how to define you.
But maybe that's whole point. Maybe that's where the trouble starts...when we try to qualify, quantify, or classify you.
Some call you God, Jehovah, Yahweh, Allah, Buddha, Kismet, or subdivide you into a prism of pantheonic functions...one god for this, one goddess for that...
Some call you the Blessed Mother.
Most try to pin a name on you in an attempt to comprehend the unknowable, something you can only FEEL, not understand.
And we're not SUPPOSED to understand, are we?
We're not supposed to be your little hall monitor/patrol leader, issuing proclamations on how to live our lives. We're not supposed to issue a power-point list of rules and rituals that will determine our loyalty, personal worth, or moral center.
We're just supposed to know that you're up there(out there, down here, everywhere)and that we are loved. And guided.
And for that, I thank you.
Thank you for reminding me.
And now that I've experienced this bit of grace, I notice that people have been, well, NICE to me. I have a man who loves me with all of his heart, I have a roommate who nearly broke his back helping to clear out this giant desk out of my disaster of a study. I have people at the gym saying that they MISSED me during my absence, they were worried about me because of the airline's financial woes. I've had a casual mailbox buddy say to me..."Hey, we don't want to LOSE you."
Hell, neither do I.
It's nice to be appreciated. Loved. It's a gift and should not be taken for granted. And it should be given back whenever possible. Am I worthy?
"Just give me a reason, some kind of sign;
I'll need a miracle to help me this time,
I heard what you said and I feel the same,
I know in my heart that I'll have to change.
Even the stars look brighter tonight.
I still believe in love at first sight.