little ant woke up, his antennae leery of the cascading dusty cliffs
antie ant strolled near, skating on dirty turfs of pecan and vanilla
“how fast you glide, how smooth you hasten!” younger ant wispily admired
antie ant felt her cold blood glow, warming from an inside shine
then off they both veered
eager for their next stage: a maple flower shaded in caramel gray sky
what do you see or imagine?
Sadness often gashes hope.
But when healing sets, what felt like an endless stinging void is now a hopeful chamber inside, a carved seat of cherubic protection.
Surely they await around nearby corners, or even closer, …in hidden crannies of gentle space that relieve weariness and inspire unseen, intimate okayness.
I can’t get enough of this recent line of questioning by Bishop Palmer at Portland’s General Conference of the United Methodist Church:
“Do our relationships lack the kind of depth that engenders real growth, change and transformation? Is it too hard for us to get real with one another because we lack the spiritual and emotional infrastructure to thrive in the midst of realness?”
His words kept ricocheting in that part of the brain that goes “hmmm, hmmmm” over and over when mentally chewing on a thought. The context of his remarks were intended for world leaders and voting delegates of the Methodist faith. But when he first posed these questions in his address, my head went straight to the precious & active relationships in my own life.
A good chunk of valuable relationships could be more real, and made so I think with my increased inner stamina. There have been a ton of times including in my marriage where a chance to be honest would be skimmed over or rebelled against completely.
…Not sure why except it seems to have something to do with all the raw, vulnerable feelings that owning the truth churns up.
My husband sometimes will justly say “Hey you’re grumpy.” And then I get my back up and defensive at his truth telling. Why the heck why? Is it a strange hidden ego trip floating around inside….that “lacks spiritual & emotional infrastructure” to hear truths on how I affect him?
If so, that looks like some juicy rebellion against self-acceptance right there….that ignoble affliction called ‘holier-than-thou’ ….which is a little sad, but fixable (fingers crossed).
Sometimes the truth in realness gashes self perception I guess! But when healing sets, what felt like a stinging void is now a hopeful chamber inside, a carved seat of cherubic protection that’s more willing to let others in.
We didn’t see scorn coming…
Years ago at a conference, our chummy DC contingent of friends strolled a town south by southwestern sun. Conversation bulged with laughter and rainbows of perspective.
An uninvited passerby neared our group, his kindness bricked far beneath. He then flared a one-word insult in sneer + racial hate.
“For real?!” …our slim response blended with surprise and then disregard.
Strolling began anew with collective mood well-cobbled in mirth and free spirits.
A monk community lived nearby and worshipped at a precious chapel. Visitors would gather for silent meditation retreats on campus. At prayer one morning, I thought the space was empty & all to myself. My eyes however hadn’t adjusted to the tender light.
A few pews over knelt a man from 1980s history, LtCol Oliver North of Iran-Contra struggles. I recall feeling ashamed for wanting the small chapel to be fully mine.