Medicine

Much of my recent life has been shaped by the passing of beloved family and friends. These deaths offer a challenge to me, to all of us. Who are we? What are we doing here? What is the point?

I was standing in line at the pharmacy considering the templates I have lived by. One is a schema of vigilance, where the world is both terrible and beautiful at the same time. I divert a huge portion of life energy watching for the dangers that may affect me or my family.

Another mode that I have lived with is that the sacred and the ordinary are separate, or at best only mix minimally where there will be some lesson or inspiration. I observed all of the ordinary folks in line ahead of me. Each seeking medication or assistance. A young woman clinging to her mother. A farmer fidgeting with a palsy. A well adorned woman looking off into space. And me. All of us seemingly alone. All of us together.

The third assumption has been that preparation and hard work are the cornerstones to character and what a person produces in their life. That discipline means hard work, which is rewarded with being witnessed or understood. I wonder, doesn’t everybody have huge corners of their life and personality that are left unseen?

It’s very possible that my rules for the universe have helped to create the very reason I was standing in line at the pharmacy. All of us human beings there at Fred Meyer Pharmacy together. Seeing their faces I was struck with the tension between fear and awe. A familiar pang came as I thought “This could be the last day of my life.” All of us waiting for the medicine, so fragile and beautiful.

When my turn came to step to the counter I took my prescription gratefully. I want to sleep better. I want to be a more solid person in my sensitivities and emotions. I took my medicine. I came home with my little white bag. I opened the three amber bottles and pulled a pill from each one. There was a potent trinity to aid me as I am learning to navigate between what is a personal problem and what is a universal opportunity.

Now, I feel a little less sobered by how people close to me have died. As I age I feel a more innocence and even delight in another question that rises from the back of the line:

“What if this were the First day of my life?”

What would the possibilities be if I saw everything and everyone as if it were the first time?

Vigilance is akin to Awareness.

Separation is part of Universality

Discipline needs the joy of Discipleship

I scrawl these statements and questions on sticky pads and place them on the edge of the computer screen. Today these are more contemplations than truths. These are queries to wonder about in this brand new life on earth.

Peace to You in your Holy and Ordinary Trinity.

RSS

(c) 2010 Richard Sievers, All Rights Reserved