Dear Kim,
I have given up wondering how we got here. It takes us too
far down this dreadful Intelligent Design vs. Evolution argument,
which somehow disintegrates into a treatise against stem cell research
and reproductive choice and gay rights.
What I do is dwell in the mystery. The wonder that we are here. The
beauty of nature, creativity of artists, decency of most people,
possibilities of commitment and authentic connection. The list
of what we have to be grateful for could take me the rest of my
life to list. Like the sheer pleasure of the breath.
I often, in fact, almost daily struggle with inequities of the
world. Why there is so much poverty?. Why some have
so much and others, so little? Sometimes, it comforts me
when I think about people I know who are materially poor—like
Emma, who cleans our offices—but is deeply rich in spirit.
Then, she talks about her struggles around Medicare and my liberal
rationalizations go out the window.
I do not understand why people are so cruel to each other. Why
we get into wars where people die. But I bet if you trace
things back, a lot of it has to do with money. Or money stands
ins. Land. Oil. Trade Routes.
You say you wonder why and how people are moved to make marriages
and create families.
That seems like an enormous leap of faith to me, too.
(Kim: I don't understand
what you call this a leap of faith.)
And
it is one that I have not been able to bring myself to
do to this point. But you did it. Almost 40 years ago with
Linda. And you chose to have and raise two children.
So what were you thinking? What moved you to that place?
I am also wondering about the possible connection for you
between all this and the wedding of your son. The start
of a new
life and an extension of your family. This is really big
stuff. I am wondering and also concerned about why you
are feeling
so blue.
Could it be the contrast between that which is sacred and
about the best that we might be and the profane, about
where we too
often dwell?
It is too easy for me to ask questions and then begin to
answer them myself. So I hope you will speak back why you
are in
this place on this particular day.
(Kim:
I'm feeling some grief in the joy of my son marrying. It is as
if he's gone off
to a foreign planet. I think of William Blake's poem: "He
who binds himself to a joy, doeth the wingeth life destroy. But
he
who
kisses a joy as it flies, lives in eternities sunrise." I
know that it is time to let go, but that is very difficult. And I
didn't expect that it would be difficult...it is like when he
left home at 19 and went to the Art Institute in Chicago.)
(Kim: My parents were really clear that though they loved us
and would do anything for us, we were not their life. Why and
how do some parents make their kids their life.
I think of The Prophet here,
"Your children are not your
children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you,
And though they are with you they belong not to you."
This
is much easier said than acted upon.)
Later,
Joan
Tuesday,
Jan 3, 2006