To Steer the Wind

Have you ever felt a house sigh? The summer has been quite hot, and the un-air conditioned house has only one east facing window to let air in. The wind seldom blows from the east.  This morning, before dawn, as I opened the window, the curtains danced and a morning breeze streamed through the house, and I heard her sigh. Such a little gift, unseen, offering a release that made her sigh.


I will never be a Mother Teresa, Ghandi nor wise and all loving.  But even mud puddles can become a canvas for dropped petals of blue.  Some gifts people offer are magnificent.   Others offer simple gentle acts of presence, a touch to say 'I am here,' a soft exhale to breathe another's name in prayer and thought ....  and like the gentle Hand that turned the breeze towards the East, such simple gifts cause the house, the heart, and Life to sigh.

Gifted's calling

I have been pondering one’s gifts, talents and the infamous topic of one’s calling.  We have all heard people say “You have such a gift,” or “He’s such a gifted…”  Just what are gifts?  When we think of “gifts” quite often we think in terms of teaching, artists, healers, speakers, leaders, and even athletes.  I’ve tried to ponder their common themes.  The one thread that sticks is that so much of what we call “gifts” involves the “giving” of oneself.  But, don’t we all have that gift?  No, I cannot draw, but I can give.  Drawing or painting, dancing or other “gifts” are simply the tools, the manifestation of how the gift is expressed.  We all have different tool boxes, but do we not all have the “gift” of giving?  If we did not, why do stories of heroes, random acts of kindness, stories of people or animals in need move us so? Do we not all have the “gift”?

Hell, I have not figured it all out.  But somewhere there is this little thread that keeps poking me and reminding me of my radical hippie days in the 60’s and early 70’s.  I remember ID bracelets were all the rage.  I bought one for myself.  Instead of my name, I had etched “A Person.”  It was my subtle way of rebelling against labels.  Maybe it was the origin of this poking thread.  Maybe that is my gift.  I am A Person.  I am the “gift.”  Gifts are gifts because they are given away.  In giving of myself, I am the gift. Gift and giver are one.  Maybe that is the calling-to simply be the gift.  In all I do may I be truly human.  May I be the gift.  When you look at it that way, we are all gifted.  There are no bench sitters or stars, no one is special.  We are all the same and equally gifted.  Different tool boxes, yes, but equally gifted, as we are.  We are the gift.  And with a confessed quiet chuckle, now ain’t that special?