12.11.2010

Day Eight: Let it Be

Where the light of creativity has gone for the past week, my light seeking companions, I do not know. The creative light went out from my soul, leaving me bare as a winter tree. It must be shining on someone else. I know it will pass, the way that winter does, but in the meantime, it feels dank and dark around here. In the meantime, what to do?

Sip celery lime soup at the downtown bakery, I suppose. And stare at the plastic poinsettia centerpieces on café tables. Pick pieces of random red glitter from my sweater. Wink at the blue-eyed baker’s son, who keeps sneaking pastry. Listen (with some disdain) to Whitney Houston sing, “I’ll be home for Christmas.” Admire the mistletoe in the doorway. Eavesdrop on the table next to me chat about flying horses from France to the U.S. Try to picture a horse on a plane. Lick hazelnut pastry crumbs from my fingers. Refill my too-strong, lukewarm coffee. Look for a Radio Flyer wagon on ebay. Yawn. Stretch. Entrance myself in the fluorescent red trees outside the café window. Type whatever comes…

Just as I become tempted to rip into myself, to over-analyze my lack of self-discipline and motivation, instead what comes to me is this: Just to be is a blessing. Just to live is holy. Rabbi Abraham Heschel wrote these words, which have meant different things to me at different points in my life. At the moment, the words tell me it’s okay to simply exist; that sometimes, it is enough to keep the breath flowing in and out of our lungs. Sometimes, it is enough to be who we are at any given moment, even if we don’t think it is enough. It is sacred to be ourselves at all times.

I wonder if Mary, in the Christmas story, always believed that she was enough; that in the moments when the light came down and the angel appeared, if she felt up to the task. If Mary didn't feel that she was enough, we know that she surrendered to her life’s purpose nonetheless: Let it be unto me according to your word. I pray I can do the same - that somehow, even when the light is not shining down, even when I feel I am far from enough, that I might be able to surrender to and carry out the purpose of my life.

At home, before bed, I listen to “Let it Be” by The Beatles. It is the perfect Advent song, especially tonight. Have a listen. And keep seeking.

Goodnight.

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