Monday, August 18, 2014

Things That Happen When You Dare God to Move

     So a few weeks ago, I announced my Personal Mid-Summer Festival and my commitment to live in joy, not escape to joy.  Almost instantly, things got weird.

     For starters, everyday during that first week, something (or several somethings) happened to throw me off of my usual routine.  One day, my usual drive to work had an unexpected detour.  One day, the facilities director had a ladder in my cubicle, replacing the light fixture up above my desk, keeping me from starting my work day according to schedule. Every day it was something just a little odd that knocked me out of my rutted patterns.

   In that same week, I heard from three different people who once upon a time meant a great deal to me, but who I let fade out of my life.  Out of the blue, one after another reached out to me, after years--YEARS--without any contact at all.  It is all a bit disconcerting, but really, really amazing, too.  Despite my reputation for extreme Pollyanna-ness, I am rooted pretty firmly in the Real World.  Reconnecting for us is not going to be like the plot line of a Hallmark Channel family movie. At this point, I'm looking at these contacts as opportunities to complete some unfinished business and perhaps recognize some things that pushed me from inhabiting joy.  It seems as if now is a good time to do that.

  The world around me got a little more troubling--genocide in Iraq, a tentative ceasefire after weeks of bombings in Gaza, a string of young, black men being shot and killed by the police sworn to serve and protect, Robin Williams' suicide...  It's more than a little overwhelming.  If I were Supreme Empress of the Universe, this certainly would not be how I'd go about this joyful living business.

    It has left me speechless--clearly, as I haven't posted in over three weeks--and feeling extraordinarily unsettled.

     In the midst of this shaking, I've certainly experienced moments of great joy.  I returned to my old summer camp for a staff reunion 30 years in the making.





Our FabFam hosted the second graduation celebration for my daughter.  My Personal Chef outdid himself with the feast, the weather was perfect, and we spent the day surrounded by folks who overwhelmed me with their love for my family.




The tiny community garden plot I tend has provided the families in the local homeless shelter with over 20 lbs. of tomatoes and basil so far.





The Evil Genius just worked his was through his first grueling week of band camp. I know this sounds so nerdy and ridiculous, but I am absolutely tickled to be a Band Mom again. That my youngest child is so excited to be a part of the marching band fills my heart to overflowing.


And yesterday, three generations of my family kicked off a week of upcoming joys together by cheering on the two Cool Cousins (and three of their amazing friends) as they ran the 7.1 mile Falmouth Road Race, raising over $2,500.00 for Compassionate Care for ALS.  I cannot describe for you what it was like to be sitting at the 5 mile mark watching the 12,000 runners pass by.  There were men, women, and children of all abilities--wheelchair racers, world-class elite runners, frat boys, high school track stars, marathon runners, middle aged mothers, girls dressed like lobsters, teams of friends and family supporting a variety of great causes.  It was awe-inspiring. Equally moving was the company of spectators I found myself amongst--dozens of folks involved with CCALS who all are somehow affected by the cruelty of ALS and still find joy in the race, the beautiful location, and each other's company.



     It is becoming clear to me that I'm being taught a lesson or two about living right now.  I'm struggling with it, but I'm, as always, relentlessly optimistic. After all, I'm about to head back to the beach with my FabFam.