"There is always some mysterious wind, shaking the tapestry that veils the mysteries of life. This wind can lift that tapestry. It can lift you...and carry your soul across the sky. Where does it come from, this wind? And where does it go?" (Tom Cowan)
Weddings, of course, create their own tapestry in this lovely mystery of life. Michael and I have spent the last weekend on Lopez Island, mostly just enjoying the generous hospitality of Stephanie's parents, Bruce and Marcia, while tending to some details surrounding the July 25th event.
It was also, of course, a time to get to know these people who will be such a significant part of the lives of Brett and Stephanie as they create a future together. They have done an incredible amount of work to make sure that the setting is idyllic, the garden colorful, that everyone will be comfortable and the wedding itself memorable for all of us. The whole gift is tied up and laced with the colorful strands of the love of parents for their daughter.
Bruce set his crab pot for the first time this season, and treated us to some steamed dungenesse crab Saturday evening, as we opened champagne and toasted the new direction in the lives of our children. We figured that between the two couples, Brett and Stephanie have 73 years of experience to draw on in their own adventure, and there was a moment of freedom in the realization that a part of our own journey was coming to a close, as a new moment in theirs was opening.
In the overcast evening that followed, we watched out over the edge of the lawn where the wedding will take place, as a rainbow-sliver touched one of the distant islands across the water. The sliver grew into a stunning huge arc of color, as a misty double appeared behind it, the new outshining the old. In the moments that followed, the setting sun Van-Goghed another small island with a glowing soft orange, kindling for night dreams.
The following morning, I sat outside on the now-quiet deck, overlooking the sloping lawn that in less than 3 weeks will be crowded with family, friends and loved-ones. The only sounds now, though, were herons, song-birds,the occasional hummingbird drawn to the English-cottage garden that Marcia has been so lovingly-tending, and the sputtering motor of a lone fishing boat as it moved through the channels between the islands. Bubble-wrap clouds enfolded the precious treasure of this priceless morning. Soon Abbey and Cody, the family labs, would come bounding out to greet me with their infectious joy, welcoming me with unconditional love into their world.
But for the moment, I was left with a mother's reflections and memories and anticipations. Years ago, before other life events colored my own tapestry, I might have been more inclined to wonder along worry-lines: have we done everything to prepare Brett for this next leap into adulthood? will Stephanie realize how much we love her and be comfortable in our family? what will the future hold for these two? will they be alright? But earth-time is a wonderful thing, and as much pain as we have endured to get to this place, we now realize that events will unfold for them, as they have for us: perfectly. There will be moments of pure love and joy, moments of boredom, moments of deep sorrow and pain, moments where love will be tested and strengthened. Through all of this, they will be companions.
And in the midst of these ruminations, a mother turkey and her two young ones wandered through the yard, grazing warily, aware of my presence but not frightened enough to change their course. They were comical to watch, with their awkward neck-straining and jerky movements, so unlike the eagles we had watched from the charming Bay Cafe the night before, gliding over the water with fish in their talons, at home and at ease in their element. I'm sure there are metaphors here for life and marriage with their turkey and eagle moments. For now, I'll only say that there will be times for both, and each will have its place.
Through them all, we are as real as a breath in the wind of God, walking through this Psalm of life. In the midst of the old growth forest of this part of the world, craning my neck to watch the filtered light as it drops softly around me, the spiritual teachings of the saints and mystics who have walked this holy earth before us arise like the tall cedars and redwoods. I feel like the tiny fern snuggled at the roots of the trees, gently responding to an imperceptible movement in the air. "Where does it come from, this wind? And where does it go?"
It sweeps along, generation to generation, through commitments of loving ritual. Those who provide us with opportunities to witness their own passage into this love remind us of the ever-renewing love in our own lives. They give us a window down through past generations of ancestors who stand beside them now and repeat ancient vows through our words. And if, as Henry Vaughan says, each oak and bush doth know I AM, then surely each word spoken in this setting of Love, carries that great I AM, radiant, out into the world. This is the Love that lifts the tapestry and carries our souls across the sky. It brings us double-rainbows at dusk and grazing turkeys at dawn, and weaves all of our loves in patterns we cannot see this side of heaven.
YAY GOD
No comments:
Post a Comment