Mattered and Remembered

I ponder the lives of Buddha, Jesus, Allah, Mother Theresa, Ghandi, St. Francis of Assisi, and others. It was “easy” for them. After all, they were Buddha, Jesus, Allah, ……. Me, I’m just me and the frailties of me are ever so obvious. I can strive but I am not them. And then I ponder the immersion, attention, effort and abandonment we throw ourselves into creating the perfect wedding day, job interview, first date, taking the first child to college, a work presentation, even knitting or tending a garden. We completely surrender ourselves to those moments. We absorb each breath and moment. We lose ourselves and yet each moment is knitted into the fabric of our mind, body, and spirit. Should my attentiveness, love, joy, hope and open heart be any different for this day? Should I be any less alive? 

Maybe, I wonder, that is what Jesus, Buddha, Ghandi, and all the others were trying to say. You can do it. You have done it. The only difference between those days and moments, is your intent and desire to make them matter and remembered. May this day be so mattered and remembered. 

Fishing for joy

He jumped to his feet. If it were not for his mother's quick reaction, his joy would have dashed him to the rocks or into the lake.  His father reached for the fishing pole, bent with a fish.  He quickly squirmed away from his mother and reclaimed his pole from his Dad.  How could you not stop, watch and laugh to see such innocent joy. How could you not release a sweet tear of thanks, as his Dad showed him how to release the fish back into the lake and not a wrinkle of joy upon his face was lost. Walking onward, you could feel the anticipation and excitement as he sat watching and waiting for yet another leap. 


As life "educates" us, do we lose sight of the small gifts of wonder and joy offered to us? Can we no longer feel the childish abandon of leaping upward? Or do we see the gifts but no longer trust that sure hands will catch us if we dare to be so free?  Or perhaps we feel our joy can only come at the expense of others and so we sacrifice our own, not trusting the same sure hands to release to them the joy they need.  


I am not so wise.  Rumi said, "Don't go back to sleep." I wonder if when he wrote that he too, saw a small boy catch a fish, dare to leap, and sat with joyful mindfulness and attention, sure he would catch another.  Sweet Hands of Life, teach me to jump, trusting both the catch and the release.