Think of a time when you experienced the juxtaposition of two things so strikingly opposed to each other that it seemed to you that these two elements almost could not exist side by side, Rev. Lisa instructed the group gathered for discussion at Lunch Bunch on Tuesday.
What do you think of?
One group member mentioned the saying, at an open-casket funeral, "Doesn't s/he look good?" Another mentioned her experience of a deep, abiding, life sadness and yet, simultaneously, how laughter and joy welled up in her life. Yet another told of a time when an experience of being entirely vulnerable led to a position of strength.
For me, what leapt to mind was the memory of a glorious, blue-and-gold Monday in May when abundant life flourished, plants in the surrounding fields so verdant and vibrant, balmy breeze, a day absolutely gorgeous. That particular day I stood by my father's grave, the polished sheen of golden oak closed over his calloused hands, as he was returned to the earth. In that hour, I knew with sharp clarity that my life was all mine, all about me, and simultaneously not about me at all.
(Now, decades later, I live with cats. Any time one can observe that cats know it's all about them.)
No comments:
Post a Comment