So We Wait

And so we wait. There is no beautiful sugar coating, no frosty protection to freeze out the emotions, not really. To open our hearts in love for family, for friends, for our own selves, for all beings in the face of suffering is a risk. There is no beautiful sugar coating, no frosty protection to freeze out the emotions that arise, the essence of our humanity, vital, tender, precious, leaving us feeling both frightened and hopeful as the rhythm of our days beats on. We wait. Or as a wise friend said to me this morning on the phone we might consider “What’s the next mitzvah, I can do?”  And even though he used the word “next” I do believe this is an invitation to be fully present to the moment unfolding.

Who or what needs our attention right now? Who or what needs our compassion, our love? Sometimes there is something we can do, a physical act of lovingkindness, gemilut chasadim. Going for a visit, preparing a meal, offering a ride, doing laundry, sending an email or making a phone call. Other times the act appears on the surface to be simply waiting. Inaction. With kavanah, intention, sitting in silence, breathing in the painful emotions, exhaling chesed; the conscious breath becomes an effortless prayer. An act of the heart, vital, tender, precious, frightening, hopeful, human.

My friend came through her surgery and is in ICU being watched closely, prayed for fervently. Thank you to everyone who offered up prayers for her, please keep them coming. There is a week’s worth of waiting for a pathology report. I have several other people I am praying for continuously at this time, I know many of you are doing the same for people you care about. As Thanksgiving (here in the USA) approaches, I am grateful, not that beloveds are suffering, but that they are a part of my life, that I can hold them lovingly in my thoughts and heart in prayer because they have taught me so much, because I am a better human, because I know them. 

Sometimes, the emotional stress of sadness and worry on my nervous system causes my body to react. Today has been that kind of day. My voice at moments clear, suddenly goes wonky, my legs at moments strong, shake and refuse to move forward without assistance. It is powerful to consider how love can have a physical impact on the ways our bodies function. Ultimately, the sadness and worry boil down to love, so I do not mind at all these health hiccups. They are worth each stammered, slurred word, each unsteady step, because I know my body is in alignment with my heart, mind and spirit, because beneath it all I am feeling love.