From an Upper Floor

the music tangles
in the wind
of muted sound
and we live again

When our son became seriously ill and I could not find holiday cards that spoke to what my heart carried,   I started to make Christmas cards.   The first card was made with construction paper  and carried a poem of mine that I had a local printing company print.   That Christmas I learned of many who were carrying heavy burdens who appreciated the card.  One man said that he told his wife Eleanor, we will frame this and I will live!   He had just recovered from a heart attack.   He said I will be reminded every day and the card in a frame on his dresser was his reminder.  We do not know when we make the effort to do a something how far the ripples will reach.

 This wall quilt is a fabric version of a Christmas card I made when we as a family faced an unthinkable future.   But we learned many things and were gifted with joys never thought possible.  To begin to do with one’s hands and mind is a gift of unmeasurable dimensions.

 One of the most important lessons we can teach our young is to begin the task, whatever it is that one desires.   Even when we don’t know how to do something, beginning will be the largest hurdle to overcome.   When we begin,  we will be shown how.   In just measure  commensurate with our abilities,  we will be taught.   And this is how we learn.  This is how we accomplish what it is that is our heart’s desire.   The materials may not be the best,  but whatever we have on hand is what we use.   Eventually, ways will be shown and events conspire to place within our hands what will not only be useful, but necessary.   But we must begin.

 Not everyone will be an artist, but we can do what is within our capacity.   Our technologies have placed lessons on television, but we find ourselves judging what we do with professionals who have spent lifetimes doing.   We can express ourselves within our means and do something we have not done before.   Our efforts at what we are able to do are commendable.   And these efforts are noted.   They allow the god within to cheer us on and say now we can do this and this.   It will be with effort and care and we will do better and better.   And one day we will call ourselves primitive artists but more importantly we will be able to take another step in conquering the fear that we cannot do anything.

Hey there, mister. . . .are you ready?   Almost,  he says and in a few minutes he appeared.

Where are we going,  he asked and I said to do some errands .   We can walk and because it is early,  it is still cool.   We did not hurry along,  just sauntered.   As we came to the corner we heard a marvelous bird song.  We stopped, looked at each other and then he pointed up.   We saw the solitary bird singing his mighty song.

 The little one squinted and said I see you and I hear you.  And the bird stopped his singing.   Ohhh the young one said.  We waited and then walked on.   It is okay,   I said.   We continued to the next corner and there was another clear song.   We looked up and he said whispering,  I not say anything.  So then I said,   I can hear you but I cannot see you.  And the singing stopped.

 They not like our saying to them that we like their singing?   I cupped his face with my hands and said,  I think they are surprised that we take the time to listen.   By listening we say thank you quietly  and they hear our thoughts.   He took this thought and nodded yes.

 A few blocks later there were songs being sung though we could not see any birds.   I felt a tug and looked down at the questioning face and in his grateful voice said we do not see you but not stop your song.  And they continued to sing.

 I also thank them he said.   Do other peoples give thank yous?   I guess not too often I said.  We forget as we get older I think to give thanks for what we do not see even when it is beautiful and we know even when we do something good and could not do what we do alone without some help.  Like the singing and the morning and the night when we sleep.   I ‘member always now, he said.   I don’ want the singing stop ever.   Not ever he said.  My heart be sad then, he said.  Very sad.

 Mine too,   I said.   Mine too.

It is a sacred alliance,   this familial connection.   So much depends on it.   What happens within four walls is more important than what happens on the outside.  What is happening in the world at large was predicted when my generation went out the front door to kindergarten.  Character is formed within the first five years and the rest of life is formed about these five years.

 How else to teach  honor,  love,  and courage except at the mother’s breast and father’s knees?  This is where we shape our children.   What goes on within four walls will soon find results in the outside world.

 Where else to honor the human except as siblings learn to love each other?   There will be no problems in the classroom when differences are honored at home.   To share,  to respect the rights of others,  to honor and to stand courageously to guard the rights of all beings,  these are the tools of life learned before the door opens onto the world.  How else to abide by the laws of usury except by ethically using what was taught at home?  Then we need not worry what happens  in the boardrooms,  the conference rooms,  the summits when the lessons of life were sacredly held at home.

 If it seems that heaven has given up on this world,  perhaps we need to monitor our thoughts and actions to see if perhaps we have given up.   If as the greatest metaphysician said,  as above,  so below,  we may find ourselves right back on the frontline again.   And our surroundings may not be as choice.   We may be walking in ash.

 What are you feeding your children?  Would you invite the heavens to sit at your table tonight?