Monday, September 14, 2009

I STILL BELIEVE IN MIRACLES

I had a head-thunking-kind-of
"a-ha"-
moment
today as I was sitting at the keyboard. I was listening to beautiful music and randomly clicking the "next blog" button, hoping I could find a blog I lost track of that was quite inspirational. The feeling that swept over me as I was listening to music and thinking about this was this overwhelming assurance that EVERYTHING WILL BE RECONCILED SOME DAY - all the relations with loved ones that are complicated - all the feelings we think we can't deal with. And picturing this far-off, blissful, pie (boat)-in-the-sky-time put me in that place RIGHT NOW.

I had a very abusive childhood and marriage. I made choices that further complicated my relationships. Even though I have no religion in my life, I still feel spiritual - I kind of shudder at that word - wish I could think of a new one. There are moments when I can look back on my relationship with my ex-husband and feel only the love. Maybe it's because I don't have to actually be in the same room with him, but I think it's more. I think that whatever God is, He can only feel love. He fails to recognize anything else. It doesn't compute. He has no frame of reference for hate. I know this doesn't coincide with Old Testament teachings, but I think people put the wrath stuff in there.

I have a favorite Aunt that embodies my idea of what God is. Most of the family thinks she is kind of simple. She is the last one to sense that someone is laughing at her for being such a Pollyanna. She just doesn't recognize this type of projection. She is my big, fluffy, full-of-love Aunt Margaret.

What's so great about being all deep and intellectual if we block the love?

It's a challenge to cut out negativity. I tried it for one day. So many of my conversations with friends were lists of complaints. When I tried to mention positive things as one friend went on a tirade about her ex, she kept saying, "Yes, but he did...(this) or "he did...(that)..." Sure, we can kvetch about irritating people and situations, but doesn't it just emphasize problems when we rehearse them over and over again? No wonder so many people in my family think Aunt Margaret is simple. She is. She's not complicated. She just loves.

Sometimes when painful things happen in to our friends or someone in our family, we think we need to stand up for someone that has been hurt, by taking a side against the person that hurt them. We think it would be disloyal if we only saw the good and tried to just love the offending person. I guess that's when silence is golden. There are enough other people willing to tear someone down - why add to it?

Failure in this instance is a good thing.
I want to fail to see the imperfections in others.
I want blinders.
I only want to see love.

Thank you, Aunt Margaret.