And when the rain falls downYou know the flowers are gonna bloomAnd when the hard times comeYou know the teacher’s in the roomAnd when the sun comes upYou know that I’ll be there for youDon’t let it go, oh no
He spoke directly to those going through struggles and
pleaded with us to not give up. I think
we all agreed last night. Red Rocks is a magical place. My first experience there was in the mid 80’s
as a college student. It’s a blur for
sure as drinking and drugging were my companions at any concert but the magical
venue left it’s mark. If you have never
been to a concert there, you must at least do it once in your lifetime. Musicians love it. The natural rock formations create a perfect
amplification of sound. Many claim it as
their favorite venue. For most Coloradans,
and those lucky enough to visit our fine state, it is definitely our favorite.
David and I needed the alchemy of a concert at Red
Rocks. And, not just any concert. Franti
filled the bill. Not only are his lyrics
a peek into the real deal of our human condition, his presence and love for his
audience was palpable. He was amongst the
crowd multiple times, hugging people, singing in our faces, shaking hands. He popped up in various locals throughout the venue and stayed in each place long enough to make the entire stadium feel they
had front row seats. He invited people
come up on stage and share the mic for a few lines. He thanked us with genuine gratitude after
each song – and he played and played and played. We were with dear friends so the night was
even more special. After a day of relatively
high angst, it was the panacea. Thank
you Michael.
I met a friend's judgment yesterday. It came swiftly from an old place in a
well-rutted relationship. We both have
our roles we play and we both predictably, in times of stress or strain,
trigger the shit out of each other. It
seems like we “should” be able to get along.
We are both great people, yet we often come from very different places
which occur as opposite opinions. And,
they aren’t really that opposite, it just ends up that way. Two wills, not hearing each other in the
least, attempting to say what we need to say, but no real messages are
received. We end up frustrated having
gathered more “evidence” for our opinion about who and how the other is. Oh that dance is so fun. Not.
The dance we unconsciously choose is the same dance we always do – and after
stomping all over each others toes - we complain to our respective parties. We may do this dance forever.
This is one of those relationships where I often find myself
“wishing” it were different. It seems
like we should be the best of friends. For many years, I
was heartbroken about that (which is an oh so attractive way to be with another…). I have had seriously
wonderful times with this person, sharing deep familiar laughter that
only a long-time relationship can produce.
And, I get over the top hooked beyond belief when we have our ‘little’
altercations. I let these interactions
take me south into obsessive-land, replaying the conversation over and over
again. And did I mention over and over
and over again all the while hoping for resolution to occur solo in my noggin,
which as you know, isn't the best place to seek resolution.
Proud to be relatively peaceful last night after consciously
letting it go multiple times, I then wondered what Michael would say about it
all. I am sure he would understand. He would say that love is all that
matters. He would get the darkness, the
angst and would probably give a big sweaty bear hug and a peck on the
cheek. Then he would write some
lyrics. As I write my ‘lyrics’ this
morning, I wonder, can I let go enough to let love be the thing that shows
up? Can I let go of my hurt feelings and
my ongoing dilemma of feeling misunderstood in this relationship? Will I?
I need to remember that this person is not a place I should
go to for deep understanding. This has inherent
irony and therein lies my trap. But really,
we are too similar and then, alas, too different. I am learning to celebrate my “all of it”
ness in life. If this recent life occurrence
doesn’t continue to open me to that then there is really no point. It’s what I am supposed to be doing on my
trip round the sun. I know that in my
bones. And, the messy humanity thing
isn’t everyone’s cup of tea. Some people
like it neat and tidy. Others like it
empowered and transformed all the time.
Talking to one of my clients yesterday, we agreed on our attraction to
teachers who are real. Both sick of the
distant guru who shines light down from the mountaintop and claims to have left
their troubles way way way back in the past.
They spread the message of what’s possible yet leave no room for the
“down” days – or moments.
Yes, I do believe that there is no ‘good’ day or ‘bad’ day only
our thinking makes it so. And, I believe
in not having to be perfect all the time too.
Thank the good lord above, most recently manifested in the visage of
Michael Franti, that I have lots of peeps around me who preach the same
gospel. We want the real deal. We want to be heard and listened to in our angst
and darkness and messy humanity. And, we
want to be known as who we really are but certainly not told to snap out of
it.
I met a man yesterday who openly shared his pain with
me. A stranger across a counter, he causally
said something about life being difficult.
As those who go through life traumas can attest, this is how it seems in
some moments. Again refer to paragraph
8, line 1 above and remember I get it.
And… Do you think that I should have said to this man, “you should look for the silver lining in life” as a way to turn him around and force feed
appreciation and gratitude instead of for a moment pausing and being with his
pain? Certainly not, in this not so humble human’s opinion. Instead, I stopped and spent time with
him. I listened and asked
questions. And, I chose not to tell him
any of my woes. He knew I got it. His spirit wasn’t destroyed either. He and his wife lost everything after an
almost fatal accident two years ago. He
spent months in the hospital, lost his 6-figure business, the bank took his
house and then the repo men showed up and carted away all his stuff. He is living with his kids and struggles emotionally
with the massive changes in his life. He
is making his way back to stability but is far from going out on his own
again. At his age, he may not make it
all the way back. He misses the freedoms
of his previous life – and is still able to see the gifts of his new life.
I will not shut him down or feed him an empowering
line. I will not expect him to be
somewhere other than he is. I will have patience
with his process and I will recognize that sometimes emotional scars take
longer to heal than the physical scars.
I will nod knowingly but not try to one-up his pain. I re-promise to have unwavering compassion
for people’s stuck places. I will
forgive my friend for not knowing how to be with my stuff and his not so well
hidden expectation that I be somewhere else - like an attitude of gratitude
perhaps??? How about we don’t enforce
that on someone else. We could be the
example – and kindly choose not to have to spell it out for someone else. The spiritual principle of ‘shut up’ is sometimes
the best we can hope for.
I will search Franti’s lyrics for THE answer. I am sure it is in there somewhere. I will let you know when I find it.