Learning to Swim

I really want my grandchildren to become good swimmers.  I want to be able to take them out in the ocean and on the river.  I want so much to have them learn to love the things that have brought me the most joy and pleasure in life.  .

It is important to do what makes you happy, to follow your bliss.

I found myself crying almost uncontrollably at yesterday's funeral for an old friend.  But I was not crying for his death. I was crying for the one who should be a bishop.  I was surprised by these strong feelings I had, so strong they made me weep.  I listened to him speak with such a giftedness, a caring for the family, a truth telling with so much love and grace...and humor...and I thought, "This one can change the world."  And I realized that what I wanted for him would never happen.  I realized what drew me to him in the first place, back in 1984...He was/is the most real and true man of God that I have ever met. 

He is everything I want to be. God bless the many priests I have grown to love, but for me, he outshines them all. For me a perfect balance of truth and grace, of the Law and of mercy. It all made so much sense to me as he spoke about a very special man who is now in heaven.  I realized that God had made it possible for me to have the best teacher in the world. 

And he will never be a bishop. And I will never be a priest. I could not care less about myself, but I found myself overwhelmed with grief that he was not a bishop.  That all that beauty that I see is just...like a flower that you have to look really hard for...but finding it, you might sell all that you have, just to watch it grow, and to learn how to live from it.  To learn to be as beautiful as possible. 

At this same funeral, I saw another priest, who is not a priest anymore. It was so nice to see him surprised and happy to see me. Asked me if I ever made it to Gethsemene and I bowed my head in shame and said no.  He was one who was a good priest, but certain conservatives (I dislike using that word as a negative), certain rule oriented people made life hard for him because he was a convert and married. I suppose he got tired and left. But he was here today. And I had the chance to remember the gifts he brought into my life as well. 

There was another, I thought might be there, but I didn't see him.  That is a different story. More pain with that one.  But this funeral was the fourth in a line of deaths this year of people who affected my life in profound ways by the grace from God to accept me, in my wonderings, of who I am, who I was and who I might become. They went to God this year...and each one told me a beautiful story, somewhere in our friendship...of things they wanted, big and wonderful and glorious things...but they never got...or had to let go. I remember.

I went to visit a young man this week. Not too long ago, vibrant and silly and wonderful.  Now his hand shakes all the time, he is recovering from a stroke. A young woman, with very young children, dealing with cancer, discusses with me her options and where to find God in all of this. Another, afraid to speak to a priest about what troubles her, I show her how she is still Catholic...and I speak the Catechism (a miracle in itself for me) and her shoulders fall and she smiles, and receives communion. This is always my work: to hear the story, to really hear the story...and to be like my wonderful priest friend, to speak to the truth, the reality of what is in front of me...and to show the joy in it...to find the rainbow, while still acknowledging the rain.

Some of the things we must surrender are little things...and some are great things, but the truth is, like a camel going through the "eye of a needle," to enter heaven we have to let go of it all. And if the Kingdom is here as now as well as "over there," it is a constant event of learning to reach out and let go, over and over again. 

It's like juggling sometimes, and sometimes, it's like swimming.  I've got my graduate degree in swimming...but it wasn't until I was thrown into the water that I actually learned how to swim.  Correction: that I am still learning how to swim. 

I thought the priest would teach me, even though my initial reason to visit him, to befriend him, was to help him through a difficult time...in gratitude for him helping me through the darkest days of my life...but God had much more in mind.

He was going to teach me how to love myself and others in ways I could never have learned any other way. He was, and is teaching me, how hang on and how to let go.  And how to be grace-filled about it all.  And how to be real about it all. And how to be a priest. If things had not gone as they did...all the little parts, I would never have been allowed to learn these amazing and wonderful lessons. They day will come, if I am still around, to write about it not so vaguely, but in the real beauty that it is. That might be a better way to teach it.  To speak in generalities is the best I can do now.

I am flooded with feelings. Sometimes so much despair, I really don't want to live anymore. I get caught up in what I wanted so bad it comsumed me. I assessed my gifts and graces and thought, "This is what God wishes me to be, what God created me for."  And I never got to be that person, that woman.  I guess I failed...perhaps. I was disappointed.

In this world, that truly worships the rich and successful, very few lessons are taught on how to grieve, how to deal with disappointment or loss.  We are very good at taking pills to mask our sadness and pain, but we never really look at our negative feelings directly.  Oh, yes, someone of us bathe ourselves in sadness and self pity, wear our scars like medals of honor...and yes, I have my days like that...but no one really teaches us how argue without losing our self respect, or with respecting others. No one teaches us how to deal with failure, or loss or disappointment or regret...

Or did someone try to teach us that?

Matthew 5:
When he saw the crowds,^* he went up the mountain, and after he had sat down, his disciples came to him. He began to teach them, saying:

“Blessed are the poor in spirit,^*

for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Blessed are they who mourn,^b

for they will be comforted.

Blessed are the meek,^c

for they will inherit the land.

Blessed are they who hunger and thirst for righteousness,^*

for they will be satisfied.

Blessed are the merciful,

for they will be shown mercy.^d

Blessed are the clean of heart,^e

for they will see God.

Blessed are the peacemakers,

for they will be called children of God.

Blessed are they who are persecuted for the sake of righteousness,^*

for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.^f

 

 

Okay, maybe someone tried to teach us that. 

 





To follow my bliss requires discipline and sacrifice, things I am not so good at.  I am a strategist.  I didn't know that about myself. I always thought of myself as wildly bohemian.  But I always have a plan. The funeral this week reminded me so much about how little I really understand...even about myself.
I have been blessed by extraordinary friends...perfect friends...not perfect in the way you might be thinking...they are perfect for me.  How quickly I lose sight of that truth when I am stuck in that place of wanting what I cannot have. It is a bit like the beattitudes.  When you realize you are poor, you can realize how much you really have. When you are sad, you can remember that you are happy, too. When you forgive, you realize that you are forgiven...when you realize what you don't have, you begin to realize how much you really have.

 

And when you get thrown into the water, you realize you already know how to swim...

 

Love, Cindy