Sunday, January 30, 2011

Fractal Dance; Part Deux

What about all the horrible things in this world?
What about the famines and the floods?
What about the orphans?
What about all the children who starve to death?
What about all the women who are raped or beaten?
What about the parents who abuse their children?
What about child slavery?
What about your teenage child out doing drugs, and who knows what else?
What about your spouse who only has bitter or hateful words for you?
What about the loneliness?
Or disease?
Or loved ones dying?
Or your precious child, spouse or sibling in Iraq or Afghanistan or some other dangerous part of the world?
Or the empty arms left by a child who's died?
Or watching someone you love suffer and there's nothing you can do about it?
This list could go on without end.


No answers coming from me on this one.


But, I have a question.


Why does it bother me when someone else is hurt?
Why do I suffer when I learn of the sufferings of total strangers?
Why are so many of us feeling so much distress right now with the many horrendous things going on around the globe?


Because we are connected.
Because at our core; in the middle of each atom; each molecule that makes up who we are . . . and in the center of wherever our soul abides . . . is that seed of the knowledge of what is meant to be.
Love.  Connection.  Joy.  Goodness.


"The Shadow Proves the Sunshine" (Switchfoot)
We couldn't see the shadow if there wasn't a contrast with what we know is supposed to be.
How do we know?  It's in our DNA, or something.  We just know.


We feel the wrongness; the disconnect.
Those who don't feel the hurt; don't suffer with others, have been damaged in some way; hardened.


(I do not mean to say we should be continually suffering with everyone who is suffering; we'd probably all go mad!  There is such a thing as "loving detachment".  It is possible to care for someone, without experiencing every pain that they do.  Much of the time, I believe this is the right and healthy choice.  Sometimes the right choice is to suffer with another.)


I realize I'm speaking as if I'm some expert on all this, which no one could truly be.  These are simply my opinions.  Take 'em or leave 'em.  Discuss, if you wish.


The beauty that I see . . . the wonder that I experience . . . the ways I'm able to love and be loved.  These give me hope.  These help me get through the day.
All I can do is focus on my little corner of the world; on the dance of which I am a part.
The complete picture is way too big for me.
The ins and outs of the dance of the universe . . . no way!


But, I can dance my little dance.
Sing my little song.
I can keep my ears and eyes open for opportunities to dance my love jig . . . or sing my melody of kindness . . . so there'll be a little less pain in the world.
And trust that I am part of a bigger dance that somehow makes sense somewhere.
I guess that's called faith.