Unchanging melodies of us through the ages~

What part of you feels the same as when you were 5 years old?  It’s fun to feel that, isn’t it?  And kind of strange…

Remember being a child and having the sense of people not really seeing you?  Remember knowing that you are quite capable, but being treated like less because you were small and immature?

I think about this as I visit with my grandmother and I notice how I speak to her so differently than I would my friends.  I think about this as I speak to children and likewise take a different tone, approaching them as more different than another adult.

Who drew the line that said “adult” anyway?  How have I changed since I was a child?

In some ways I was smarter then.  Children have fantastic perception, you know.  They can see through things and have very clear priorities.  I could tell things to my teachers about myself, but they wouldn’t believe me – they had to wait and see for themselves.  So interesting.  Why don’t we listen to children with a little more attention, or respect?

I remember that I always felt the same at the very center of “me”.  That part that watches when you strip away the rest of the story and all its layers of clothing concealing the hidden treasures of us.  That part that is the same as it always was.  And it doesn’t change, does it?

So what does that mean as we age?  What about the elders, those amazing people that our culture is so lost without?  What about how much my grandma knows about life?  Is it lost in the race for technology?  What about the 8 year old still inside her that wants to laugh and play and move a little easier in her challenged body?  How can I help bring a little more light to her life, from so far away?

She is amazing.

My nephews are amazing too.  And my little niece.  Trying to make sense of a political technical world.  The oldest two engaging in the fiercest game of politics I know.  I am so glad to be past adolescence.  Aren’t you?  Kids are savagely mean.  Why?  I wonder about this.  What makes teenage girls so mean?  And why didn’t I believe people when they told me it would be different after high school?  So glad to be older!

But still me.  Still the two year old with insights into my parents as I watched them and smiled because they thought I didn’t know anything.  Still the 12 year old awkwardly trying to fit in.  Still the 18 year old angrily leaving my parents’ home.  Still the 25 year old gratefully loving my family and walking a long path of deep love and curiosity.  Still the same as when I was born – the same center eyes looking out.

And so different.  Who is that me?  Who goes through all of that, and still stays the same?  What is this spark that animates us unchanged despite the madness, the beauty, the brutality, the impossibility, the raw fresh possibility, the walking through fear and ceremony, and remains the same?

It is a gift to be human.  No matter the face or lack of face of your God, no matter the realism you endure, this is a precious thing, to love and to ache.  And to remain seeing it from that same space, over and over and blessed all over again….

I think we should all spend more time with our elders and our children.  So much matters in this race for success, and go rock it out!  I dare you to be all you want to in every way!  But take time for those beautiful people.  They have so much to teach us.  And we have so much love and gratitude to open up to them.  And when that innocent beautiful center shines out as we get older, looking through the same eyes rich with wisdom, we’ll be glad for what we heard from those older and younger.

The voices we don’t take time to hear are often the ones that teach us the most.

A little Hafiz for you…

~You Have Never Been Lost~

I wanted

to put something on this page that might

make your heart see as

mine,

for the Truth lives in me now;

its ways I

know.

When God flowed into Himself, He made the mill happy.

These words, light ground,

hold them.

Every world sent out its scouts looking

for a merchant who can say,

“You have never been lost dear;

it is God who became

confused.”

When He returns home

the mill will

sing.

Existence leans its mouth

toward me,

because my love

cares for

it.

I recommend reading that one a few times….

God love Hafiz….

So loving you…