It’s quite easy for me to write about what I do. What I’ve been struggling with is what to write about me on this site’s “About Pam” page. Here’s what I’ve come up with . . .
I had so much hoped to awaken with a clear head and the happy frame of mind that I had experienced the day before when we spent the entire day with Finley, our precious 18-month-old grandson. But on Easter Sunday (2021) I woke up with – for lack of a better term – brain fog. I was overly tired even though I had slept well, and I was groggy. With no time to center myself with needed alone time and slowly drinking a good cup of coffee before leaving for church, I felt sad and angry. “If only my brain was sane,” I thought.
I had not played the piano for almost four years. In the frame of mind I was in, I couldn’t imagine myself synchronizing with the small choir or with Phil as he played the guitar. Nor could I imagine finishing the article I had begun of why I’m more convinced now than ever before that the Biblical account of the birth, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ points to God’s desire and ability to create unity within humanity simply because God IS Love.
On the ride home from church I berated myself for blowing it on the piano, for not engaging like I had wanted to with others and on and on and on I went – stuck in that awful familiar loop of self-pity and self-distain that I had been freed from years and years ago. Damn! A relapse!
As planned after Phil and I ate lunch, we headed to the lake front with our dogs. Although I didn’t feel like walking, I knew I needed to since I was still feeling out of sorts. I gradually felt better as we walked. The walk combined with the chilly breeze coming off Lake Michigan along with the bright sun shining on us was just what I needed to free myself once again from that tangled web of self-loathing and its sidekick, self-pity.
Ahead of us as we walked, I noticed an elderly woman sitting on a bench. Even from a distance what grabbed my attention were her kind eyes. She was smiling enthusiastically at me and our adorable, 13-pound Tillie. When we were close enough for her to hear, I stopped to speak with her. Phil, knowing that I often engage in long conversations with strangers, prompted Jethro to continue walking without us.
“She is cute, isn’t she,” I said pointing to Tillie. And then immediately after she said, “I don’t speak English,” without hesitation we simultaneously blew each other a kiss. I walked away with an uncanny joy that filled my entire being – I knew I had once again experienced the divine unity spoken of within the Scriptures that annihilates every religious, political, denominational, and societal wall we build because we fear the unknown and unfamiliar.
With all that said, thus far my journey of 68 years has vividly taught me that my essence, my identity, my design – although magnificently unique – is not simply me, it is us: me, my God who IS Love, the elderly Muslim woman with kind eyes sitting on the bench, and all the others who have already crossed my path and all those who will do so in the future and throughout eternity. When I fail to perceive unity – the us in me – it is impossible to live my unique and God-given Design to its fullest.
About Pam? No! I am about us.
P.S. I don’t need to finish that article I began: Sharing this experience pretty much says it all!