God said, “I command light to shine!” And light started shining. God looked at the light and saw that it was good. He separated light from darkness and named the light “Day” and the darkness “Night.” Evening came and then morning—that was the first day. …
Genesis 1:3
There are experiences that connect us, those times that remind us what it means to be these fragile, blessed ones who walk upright on the earth. These are experiences that strip away all the things we usually believe divide us. Sometimes it can be as simple as a knowing glance between two parents as they watch a child do another amazing feat. Sometimes it is the way your heart tugs in your chest when you see an act of unkindness toward another that has also been an unkindness you have known. It can be the sound of a particular piece of music that weaves the strands of your life back in time to people and places you once knew, to another way you knew yourself. If we allowed ourselves, these invisible lines of connections could make up the food that feeds our day.
Last evening I was privileged to be in one of those moments where perfect strangers gathered with the expressed purpose of being filled with awe. As last night’s full moon was known to be rising, groups of people began to filter toward the shore of Lake Superior to watch what had been called a ‘super moon’, make its way out of the water and into the sky. We had all gathered to be in the presence of what seems like miracle. A small gathering of people sat in deck chairs while two musicians sang with the accompaniment of their back up singers……the many gulls that flitted and flew over head. Other human ones made little nests for themselves in the rocks still warm from the day’s other bright light, the Sun. Some of us leaned expectantly on a fence. Whether singing or talking or pointing a camera, we all kept our attention on the horizon which was to offer the true gift of the day.
Not more than an hour before we had made our way to watch this ‘full moon rising over Superior’, I had received a text message that simply said: “Boy king born.” My husband knew I would want to know that the royal watch across the pond was over and the baby had, indeed, been born. Passing on this information to my travel companions we all breathed a sigh of relief and joy. It is a funny thing to not know these people whose lives unfold in the world’s view but to care about the birth of their child. Another one of those great connectors…..birth.
The night before I received a phone call from Seattle Son telling me of the death of one of our dear friends, someone who had helped raise him, someone he called his second mother. We sat and talked, miles separating us but entwined nonetheless by one of life’s great threads, death. We shared stories and memories and the blessing of having known such a generous and compassionate person. We felt the distance of miles but not of heart.
I often say that some days are simply fuller than others. Some days we are filled with the deep knowing that our days are precious gifts not to be squandered, not to be taken for granted or lived lightly. These are the days when you walk into the full body experience of the beauty and terror of living taking the deepest breath you possibly can, trying to etch the miracle of it all someplace in your brain so you will always feel the gratitude that threatens to drown you.
Of course, this kind of constant awareness is impossible. It might also drive us mad to walk around in our daily walk with such a sensitivity to the miraculous dripping out our pores. The mundane may be what keeps us sane. Doing the laundry, driving in traffic, organizing our sock drawers may just be what we need to keep us from lifting into the air filled with bliss.
Last night I held the news of both birth and death within me. I stood looking at the waters that have filled me with awe over and over again. I joined in the congregation of those who came to have one more dose of this miraculous life. It was what reminded us that we are all in this together. Breath to breath. Birth to birth. Death to death.
And sometimes we are blessed to see a full moon, a Super Moon, rising.
