Solstice

I was originally going to call this post “Area 51,” and then quickly clarify that I am referring to my 51st trip around the sun, not the cryptic place where aliens are kept. Given the year that this 51st trip has been, I thought it an appropriate metaphor. But I have been slow to sit down to write since my birthday (the 4th in case you were wondering), and now the solstice is upon us. I am up, not able to sleep and wishing that I could actually see the great conjunction of Saturn and Jupiter, but no such luck. Nevertheless, I feel the thinness of the moment and figured it is as good a time as any to share. The sun is standing still, after all, in that moment of pause as it switches from descent to rise… or so it seems to us on what seems to be on the up side of our planet (side note: we might want to check as to why we think north is up and south is down, just sayin).

Anyway, to back up to my birthday, Shannon asked me on the day of what I had to share upon completion of trip #51. I hadn’t thought too much about that, but did have an immediate response as well as some follow up thoughts that have been emerging in the weeks since. So in this moment of pause, that is what I would like to share with you. Here goes:

1. Thank God for young people. This was the thing that immediately came to mind when Shannon popped the question. The thing is, I am incredibly grateful that in my adult life I have always had the opportunity to work closely and profoundly with young people. By young I am talking kids through young adults. In addition to the honor of raising two beautiful girls, I spent fifteen years coaching a very large extended hockey family of youth and since then have taught architecture at the college level. I won’t say that this intense relating has kept me young, per se, but rather has kept me open minded. Because the thing about young people is that the world hasn’t usually crashed down on them yet. There is still nothing but wide open potential in front of them. They have yet to become stuck in their neural pathways. They don’t really think they know it all (although they may pretend to, as opposed to adults who tend to be sure that they do even though they may claim otherwise so as to not sound pompous). Young people have yet to become, well, jaded. Their stories are still largely in front of them, and therefore they aren’t limited by what has yet to be written. In short, life is still a big mystery. This is an extremely important perspective to stick close to, because in truth it always remains so in spite of our tendency to forget as our stories and patterns pin us down as time progresses. 
2. There is no such thing as closure. There are no endings. There is no end of the proverbial rope. Life isn’t linear like that. There is no point in trying to make it so. In reality, life is a complex tangle of strings, all interweaving into one another with no end of any string to be found. Ever. Oh you may think that you have found it, but just give it a moment. The second you think you have escaped the entanglement that string will yank your feet right out from under you. My best advice: laugh when it does. Be deeply appreciative in the knowing that the net has got you and it will never let you fall. In this very moment, I am thinking about so many strings, the so, so many people who are woven through my life. Every single one of them is with me in every single moment, and always will be… especially in my moments of quiet solitude and reflection. Especially in my thin moments, like tonight, which brings me to my last observation for you.
3. Life is a thin space. Always. It doesn’t seem so, no. Much of the time it feels like we are walking through mud, or quicksand as the case may be. But that is just the illusion talking. If you are ever desperate to remember how thin life is, just pick up a glass or plate or anything breakable and hurl it at the nearest wall or floor (borrowing this from a movie, for the record). As you watch and listen to it shatter, think to yourself “this is life”. It seems solid, but reality is fragile, held together as it is by tenuous beliefs and easily overcome by an instant of committed rejection after which there is no going back to playing pretend. Usually it is an outside force that reveals the thinness of it all to us. Embrace those. Revel in those. Invite more of that in. We need life to get as thin as it can be right about now so that all of that untapped potential that our young people remain close to can come pouring in through each and every one of us. 

Those are my top three observations upon completion of my 51st spin as I sit still with the world, for just a moment. And for all of you humans who can see the conjunction tonight, I trust that you are taking some damn good pics for those of us trapped under the clouds! Peace.