When May is rushing over you
with desire
to be part of the miracles you see
in every hour
you'll know it's true
that you
are blessed and lucky
it's true that you
are touched by something
that will grow and bloom
in you
~10,000 Maniacs - "These Are Days"
I've seen two rainbows so far this week, both at about 7pm, both while driving on my way home. The first was barely a flicker of color, a scrap of ribbon fluttering against the blue-grey evening. It was there and gone over the course of half a mile.
The second, Tuesday, was magnificent--it arched its back across half the sky, visible from one end to the other, split by a thread-thin bolt of lightning as I stared at it, sitting at a stop light, murmuring like a crazy person: "Thank you, God. Thanks, Mama."
I remember a number of years ago, not too long after I moved to Austin, driving westward during a partial solar eclipse that made our exuberant star into a crescent for a few breathless minutes. I kept looking around at the other people in their cars to see how many of them were gaping at the--and I use this word with its original intent--awesomeness of it all...but nobody was looking. People were staring straight ahead, talking on their cell phones, rummaging in purses...not one of them was looking up.
It felt, just like this evening, as if the universe had offered me an exclusive and faintly naughty peek at its frilly underthings. I'd been let in on a secret. I was sure somewhere in the city other people were feeling the same way, inspired to reckless metaphor by the creativity of a planet that has produced both the Atlantic Ocean and the aardvark.
I wanted to grab the nearest person, wrench his head up from his iPhone, and point him at the rainbow, saying, "What is wrong with you people? It's a miracle! It's all a freaking miracle, and you're missing it!"
I've slouched through a lot of my life with my head down, too. The last couple of years have been a continuous, laborious process of wading through the swamp of my issues and trying to make some sense out of an incarnation that seemed, on the surface, to have gone spectacularly awry. Every time I felt like I was starting to unravel the knot, I uncovered another snarl.
At least for the moment I have some breathing room, and by breathing, I mean, taking great gasps of life and howling at the Moon...or more likely exhaling noisily like Inappropriate Yoga Guy:
Joy is an eclipse, a rainbow: just because it won't last forever doesn't mean it isn't something to be prized. Wherever you are, provided you won't drive off the road and cause a fatality, stop and let it wash over you. The more you let it touch you, the more can sink in and infuse your whole life.
And don't forget to try the fresh goji berries.
with desire
to be part of the miracles you see
in every hour
you'll know it's true
that you
are blessed and lucky
it's true that you
are touched by something
that will grow and bloom
in you
~10,000 Maniacs - "These Are Days"
I've seen two rainbows so far this week, both at about 7pm, both while driving on my way home. The first was barely a flicker of color, a scrap of ribbon fluttering against the blue-grey evening. It was there and gone over the course of half a mile.
The second, Tuesday, was magnificent--it arched its back across half the sky, visible from one end to the other, split by a thread-thin bolt of lightning as I stared at it, sitting at a stop light, murmuring like a crazy person: "Thank you, God. Thanks, Mama."
I remember a number of years ago, not too long after I moved to Austin, driving westward during a partial solar eclipse that made our exuberant star into a crescent for a few breathless minutes. I kept looking around at the other people in their cars to see how many of them were gaping at the--and I use this word with its original intent--awesomeness of it all...but nobody was looking. People were staring straight ahead, talking on their cell phones, rummaging in purses...not one of them was looking up.
It felt, just like this evening, as if the universe had offered me an exclusive and faintly naughty peek at its frilly underthings. I'd been let in on a secret. I was sure somewhere in the city other people were feeling the same way, inspired to reckless metaphor by the creativity of a planet that has produced both the Atlantic Ocean and the aardvark.
I wanted to grab the nearest person, wrench his head up from his iPhone, and point him at the rainbow, saying, "What is wrong with you people? It's a miracle! It's all a freaking miracle, and you're missing it!"
I've slouched through a lot of my life with my head down, too. The last couple of years have been a continuous, laborious process of wading through the swamp of my issues and trying to make some sense out of an incarnation that seemed, on the surface, to have gone spectacularly awry. Every time I felt like I was starting to unravel the knot, I uncovered another snarl.
At least for the moment I have some breathing room, and by breathing, I mean, taking great gasps of life and howling at the Moon...or more likely exhaling noisily like Inappropriate Yoga Guy:
Joy is an eclipse, a rainbow: just because it won't last forever doesn't mean it isn't something to be prized. Wherever you are, provided you won't drive off the road and cause a fatality, stop and let it wash over you. The more you let it touch you, the more can sink in and infuse your whole life.
And don't forget to try the fresh goji berries.
This is a really beautiful reminder. Too many of us hurry through life, heads down, wrapped up in ourselves when we should be enjoying creation. Thanks so much for reminding me that I need to "look up" from time to time.
Posted by: Jay Schryer | August 26, 2009 at 01:53 PM
Wow. That post just... woke me up a little bit. It's been such a long time since I've really looked around and enjoyed the world around me.
Not to mention that Inappropriate Yoga Guy made me laugh a lot. =]
Posted by: Kelly | August 26, 2009 at 09:53 PM
"as if the universe had offered me an exclusive and faintly naughty peek at its frilly underthings"
I miss having these moments. I don't get outside as much as I used to (not even for work), so they're rare. But, there was an amazing double rainbow right after my wedding and I nearly got in an accident on the freeway trying to take a picture and drive at the same time. I love the feeling of communion in those moments! I still get chills watching lightning and hearing thunder. Very much the naughty underthings.
Posted by: Jaka Merriman | August 27, 2009 at 11:30 AM
"I wanted to grab the nearest person, wrench his head up from his iPhone, and point him at the rainbow, saying, 'What is wrong with you people? It's a miracle! It's all a freaking miracle, and you're missing it!'"
YES! This is why I'm Pagan, because of the miracles in the natural world all around us.
Posted by: Plainclothes Pagan | August 29, 2009 at 03:03 PM