Friday, August 28, 2009
Thursday, August 13, 2009
I relented about 11:30pm on Tuesday. Tyler had been begging me to take him out to see the meteor shower, but I was tired and had fallen into my routine of wanting to lay in bed, comatose, and watch mindless TV. But I’m trying to practice what I preach, to break outside of my comfort zone and enjoy life as it comes. Living does not equal sitting around in a rut. That’s merely existing.
We headed out in search of darkness, away from the city lights. Not an easy thing to find anymore, but we headed south, and found a dark street and empty parking lot at 133rd and Roe. We lay down on a blanket and looked up at the heavens. We watched the meteors streak across the sky and then disappear as they vaporized into our atmosphere. We both sat blot upright as the brightest of the evening came shooting almost over our heads, blazing on the horizon and lighting up our faces.
We are just Mother and Son on this little blue planet orbiting a star in the middle of the universe. We are two of many, no more or less significant. Our hopes and dreams, accomplishments and joys, our trials and sorrows are infinitely infinitesimal in the Grand Design. But to me, they are infinitely important. They are everything.
It’s good for the soul to be reminded how insignificant we all are. I like to think of it as God grabbing me by the back of my shirt and yanking me back from total self-absorption. Our lives, even with the heartache and sadness and death and disease, are nothing short of miraculous. We all need to be summarily shoved off course from the tunnel vision of day to day life and be reminded of our true gifts.