How I prayed (and will keep praying) during a moment of silence…moving on from the Boston Marathon Bombing (Pt 2)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hello friend, as a way to support the healing of the Boston community, I’m writing a few posts offering how I’m praying. This is part 2 of a series : “Now what? how can we move on and heal”

Today, I’m taking a look at how to heal our sorrow over what happened to the victims.

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Today at 2:50pm, Boston Mayor Menino has invited the community to pause for a single moment  “to honor attack victims and their families.” He tweeted this message:

Please join me, with @massgovernor and One Fund Boston, in a moment of silence Monday afternoon. ow.ly/i/1Wlji #OneBoston

— Mayor Tom Menino (@mayortommenino) April 21, 2013

 

When we each pause and take this moment of silence today, and thought embraces those who the bombings directly impacted,

I will be pulling thought up and off the statistics of 3 dead 170 injured.

up and off of reliving and re-experiencing the explosions.

and up and off of reliving the 24 hour manhunt.

In the moment of silence, I’ll be going deep and asking some biggies….like:

How, when I have never experienced the birth of a child let alone raising one, can I fathom the pain of losing one?

How, when I’ve not ever experienced the loss of a limb, can I fathom what any of the victims feel?

But you see therein lies what I can do…what each one of us can do.

Haven’t we all experienced deep loss of some kind?

However we are able to relate to a sense of loss, we can also relate to the sense of hope and life that restored that sense of loss.

In fact, I choose to focus there today, on the sense of Life that is…the Life that nudges each one of our thoughts and actions and steers our footsteps.

That Life that rallies us to outpour collective prayer that families and a nation can heal.

My hope will be defending that all of them and all of us can know that Life itself is giving them strength to move forward and embrace the abundance of their now, though its been hugely shifted in ways I have not ever experienced and may never be able to fully relate to.

Interestingly, just a few weeks ago, I had the occasion of meeting and sharing dinner with a man who’d recently had a leg amputated. And it was his first outing of using his prosthetic limb.

We met at a community gathering for St. Patrick’s day. It was a potluck. He was a friend of the hosts in a neighborhood that I was also very new to visiting.

I didn’t know anyone really.

He didn’t either.

When I saw him seated at a table, alone, I figured go say hi. I tend to scope out those who remain on the peripheral.

I pulled a chair up and said hello and welcome.

He was funny. He cracked a joke about the holiday something bout wanting to do an Irish jig but would have to hobble now.

I asked why.

He showed me his leg.

And immediately? I didnt have fear of unfamiliar.

I had deep compassion.

An hour earlier? I’d been hemming and hawing over whether to go to the party because I didn’t know anyone.

I’d been hemming and hawing in nervousness.

I had to rally to hush the nervousness and in those moments I chose to LIVE. to be and exude. I chose to just go and express joy.

And moments later here I am sitting next to this dear man and hearing his story of victory.

I swallowed hard.

There was a fleeting moment of  “Tre, luvbug, life happens when you allow your heart expand!” (duh!).

As I was thinking that, he became a tad bit more serious.

He said “You know, I drove for the first time in months today. And I may never take for granted again walking to the grocery to pick up a gallon of milk.”

I was speechless.

What do you say?

Exactly.

So I chose to just love…just love his humanity, his courage, his strength, his choice to exude life.

I was trying hard not to well up with tears because in moments like that?

All your funk dissipates.

All the muckety-muck you think you’re not doing well enough fast enough whatever enough… leaves.

In that moment there was a lull in the dinner conversation and the whole table rallied around offering how each other got to know the other person.

I turned to him and told him:

“Your perseverance is moving. And speaking with you is inspiring.”

See, as we connected heart to heart, and shared a discussion about his experience? I didn’t see a victim in this man.

I saw a man….a brave heart resolving to move on with the use of both legs.

And?

This is what I’m gonna strive to do with my thoughts about the many whose lives were impacted.

And as I hear the chimes, I’ll be thinking of the life that is budding in the spring, the life that we are all able to choose to exude.

I’ll be thinking of hope for this second, this moment now, for all of those directly impacted.

Because that’s the key isn’t it?

What we each do with our right this moment now thinking?

So today, when thinking about the folks directly impacted, can’t we resolve to pull our thought off that label of ‘victim’ and hold deep hope and expectation they will each feel the possibility of their new now?

I know it’s a stretch.

I know it takes concerted effort to shift from labeling as victim to advocating their life.

But can’t we all expect this? This sense of renewed vigor for life like my new friend had?

Can we stand with all of them and instead of mourn, hold hope for them?

And more, can’t we look at whatever seems dark in our own lives and in the chimes that ring let that heavy mindset go?

None of us want to mourn.

We want to live and be alive…with hope. with life. with love.

So friend, today when those bells ring,

I will be praying to know that the Life that is can be felt by all of us.

That maybe what has changed for all of us can be found in a renewed commitment to appreciate even more the wonder that Life is.

That no more do we need to relive one moment of the horror of the attack, or one more moment experience its pain.

Rather can we rally in the right now this moment’s fullness of Life in every single way that it speaks to us and whispers to us BE.

Deepest love to you and hope that all feel the hope of this truth of the Life that is.

“Become conscious for a single moment that Life and intelligence are purely spiritual, – neither in nor of matter, – and the body will then utter no complaints.” (from the chapter called ‘Prayer’ in the book Science and Health)

 

*Thanks to @jeffcutler for uploading such a timely image of hope and feeling from the Memorial in Boston.