I wrote this entry at least a week ago. I didn't want to post it, but it's part of the story that I am still trying to figure out. My thought it, only people who need it will read it. Life is still very much of a great puzzle for me. Like the one at the beach, hard to see how it goes together unless you look at it in a very specific way.
The problem is, the closer I get to understanding it, to putting it all together, the scarier it gets. It might be better to never know. Maybe.
The past week has been filled with vivid dreams. I can hardly remember them, but they were all active and exciting...and way better than life in so many ways. In my dreams, I can solve problems. I am forever young and healthy. I have the relationships I long for. I can fly high in the sky. I can walk in the Garden of Eden. I can actually live as one with God.
Life is a bit more complicated. Driving in the rain, past Highway 21, I was flooded with memories of how drastically life had changed for me in college. I remembered my fears of being forced to grow up, how much I hated Houston...and rich people...who thought they had the right to do anything to anybody. I did not want to grow up. I did not want to be like them. I don't remember being happy very much. While childhood was a kind of war zone, my observations seemed to indicate that life would only get worse as I grew older. And I wanted no part of it.
The only time I was truly happy was with God...whatever that was. This week, I was flooded with memories good, bad, beautiful and ugly. I recalled what I learned, what I did. And in the midst of the all the goods and the bads, I finally accepted that those things are just being alive. You judge, you make choices as best you can...and then you live. Anyway. The best thing to do is to not beat yourself up over the realization that you could have done things better...or worse.
It is what it is, in this human body. We can only pull off so much. But we can often get away with too much.
In the midst of knowing that we are finite, I discover that I am a person of ritual, of ceremony, of blessing. It was difficult for me to let someone else pay for my very expensive meal. Mostly because I consider myself a bit of a 'tag along'. I feel much like that one whom no one knows exactly what to do with, but kind of needs to be there. So I created a purpose for myself. I am the herald, the recorder of events, the one who surprises, the entertainer. These comments remind me that I still consider myself of no particular worth. They remind me that I still do not see clearly.
My grandchildren somehow find my worth...and not just in what I can do or be for them. I had to have them enter in to my life for me to understand that concept. Worth without doing anything. That is a hard one.
And while I could just whine and be sad over that understanding of myself, as I walk with people as they near death, I discover that the most delightful people suffer the same thoughts. Successful, beautiful, loving people...wonder in those last moments, remember all the good they might have done and didn't...
And in those moments, I get to do my job as one who knows, who has been there.
Of course, God loves you
You did good. (I do not say, "You did the best you could" unless they are unable to receive the first. Saying the latter implies a guilt might remain)
Yes...all those things are there...but God loves you. Really.
It's time to let it go.
Everyone will be fine.
You will understand soon.
They will understand one day.
It is the ritual of death. The words of the Church are good and helpful, but there is more to do. It you want to say only the priest can forgive the sin (actually only God forgives sin), that is fine. But the greatest work, the hardest work, the last work...is to forgive yourself.
"Indiana, let it go."
I always think about that line from "Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade." The driving force of the story was to achieve the Holy Grail. Everyone wanted it. This "cup of eternal life." The "cup of Christ" but really, the adventure was the real story. It was not the end, it was the journey. Elsa and the other character (can't think of his name)...wanted "eternal life". They thought life was a thing. It's not. Elsa grabbed for the thing...and died. Literally fell into the bottomless pit of despair. (Ah, yes, I even dreamed about teaching last night!) And Indiana, whose father was holding tight onto his hand, whose father had ignored him all of his life to find that "holy grail," help tight to the child, called him by name and said, "Let it go." The father made a choice: the son. The son made a choice: the father. Yes, all the mistakes that were made did not go away. When they leave the cave/church, they will make more mistakes again. But they made a choice. They chose wisely: the life. The adventure.
So it will be for all of us. We can wait until that very last moment...and choose good. We can keep striving for all sorts of things, thinking they will make us feel worthy. Or we can choose people and adventures now.
Heaven can begin here, if you are willing to just let it go.
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