Monday Morning Musing: The Sky is Not Falling

Good Monday Morning! My musings this morning are a little bit all over the place. Somehow, though, they share a connection with the sky.

You are likely aware that I am living in a very liminal space just now. This sabbatical season was intentional on my part, as I sensed it would be a necessary time of rest and renewal before taking on whatever comes next. Since it is full-on summer in the PNW, I seem to spend much of my time looking up, either at the brilliant sun in the sky or Mount Rainier/Tahoma in all her glory or at the sunsets, which have been breathtaking lately. This is the season when those who live here develop amnesia; we forget about the grey nature of the rest of the year and bask in each glorious day. We look up at the sun and imprint it's brightness on our hearts.

One of the lessons I'm learning in this season is to trust that there will be a next thing when this season concludes. The Church moves at a glacial pace in most things, and sometimes that is good and prudent. Taking care in calling a pastor or priest is good for everyone involved, although it can elicit impatience in all parties. Some days, I awaken with a fair amount of anxiety around what is next. I fear that institutional patriarchy will hold hands with institutional ageism and I will necessarily find myself working as a greeter at a big box store. (To be fair, I have skills in this area). My reasoning brain eventually wakes up and reminds me that I chose this time, it has lessons I need to learn, and to quote Julian, all will be well. The sky is not falling. Instead it is filled with a brilliant light that enlivens us all and then shows off at days end.

I'm trying to hold all of this lightly and I'm so thankful that Bruce is a pro at doing this. Plus, I've had this incredible gift of being able to be present with our sweet grand-girl in the first months of her life. Her middle name is Rey, like a ray of sunshine, and that she is.

Here's a poem I read this week that reminds me of this season:

When Life Seems a To-Do List

by Marjorie Saiser

When the squares of the week fill

with musts and shoulds,

when I swim in the heaviness of it,

the headlines, the fear and hate,

then with luck, something like a slice of moon

will arrive clean a a bone

and beside it on that dark slate

a star will lodge near the cusp

and with luck I will have you

to see it with, the two of us,

fools stepping out the backdoor

in our pajamas.

Is that Venus? --I think so -- Let's

call it Venus, cuddling up to the moon

and there are starts further away

sending out rays that will not

reach us in our lifetimes

but we are choosing, before the chaos

starts up again,

to stand in this particular light.