Sinking Deep
Election day-- and the world is bracing itself, for what - we don't even know. Because we do know that whichever way it goes, half the nation is going to be distraught. We worry about bad behavior on both sides.
Remember how awesome it was, on hot summer days, when you were a kid, to sink down deep-- into the hushed, muffled water of a swimming pool or river? You entered into a private world of blue-green bubbles and-- peace and quiet.
Well, we can't all go sticking our head into the nearest pond for to find peace. The main trouble being, eventually we do need to come up for air. And while Gus (above) is a great example of wallowing deep, (every chance he gets,) we do have some easier options. I love this sagely advice, from The Sages' Tao Te Ching, by William Martin:
"The next time the behavior of others,
close at home, or across the world disturbs you,
sink deep into the waters of your life.
There you will find all you need."
I love this. It doesn't mean we get to ignore our troubled waters or neglect our duties. Its simply means we must focus on our own lives: feeding our pets, hugging our loved ones, preparing meals, helping our kids, doing our jobs, writing our songs--whatever. We must go about the business of doing whatever it is we were sent here to
do.
Sinking deep below the rough waters of anxiety, news and worries over others' affairs, sinking deeply into our own lives, even for a short time, we can find relief and peace. Then when we re-emerge into the larger world, we are stronger, saner and more effective than before.
The other thing we can do--is have some faith. We aren't actually in charge. We don't have to carry the world on our shoulders. We just have to carry our little part of it.
When I was seventeen I wandered into the darkened auditorium of our small-town high school, on a winter evening, to retrieve something I'd left behind. Someone was playing the piano in the dark, singing, his voice pouring out into the night, like light and honey.
I stood in the dark doorway and listened, wanting it never to end. As the last notes echoed through the auditorium, I slipped out unseen, blinking back tears from the beauty of his voice and the song.
You've all heard this before, but I hope you enjoy listening again, if you could use a little light and warmth on a dark night. The song that Art Garfunkel says came not from him, but through him.
And Michael Salinas, wherever you are, in my humble opinion, no one ever sang this more beautifully than you did, forty years ago, on a winter night at Analy High School--when you thought no one was listening.
Bridge Over Troubled Waters
