The Moon, Hidden from View

Yesterday, the snow came down in quiet falling, blanketing the world in white. The moon, hidden from view, pulled the marionette streams of bad behavior, and people opened their mouths to reveal ugly.

Ever had a day like that? People saying awful things and butting heads and you cannot figure out what is going on?

It’s the gravitational pull of the universe. The energy gone amok because of the forces of heaven. And people don’t realize they’re being played with.

Then you sleep and wake to even more snow across metro Detroit, a beautiful winter landscape, and with the dawn realize you have a blank canvas of a day ahead, and it can be anything you want.

As a divorced mom, I want for my children to be the best they can be. I want them to realize their true calling, their deepest identity, free of, but inspired by, me and their father and stepfather. Sometimes, though, it’s hard to remain neutral and not influence their direction.

I hear it all the time: just be your best, and they will see that role model and learn a deeper lesson. Perhaps.

I’ve never wanted to control my children’s outcomes. Truly, I’ve always believed they are their own unique individuals with their own destinies ahead of t hem. It’s not my path; it’s theirs. And wherever they end up, if they are good people trying to effect good change in the world, I will be happy.

Most parents are not like that. Most want a specific outcome for their children, a specific profile, a specific life path. I just can’t care. Perhaps it’s because I’ve always walked to my own beat, and so I understand that need to figure it out on your own.

A month ago, I was walking Tel Aviv streets and blasted by 75-degree heat at the foot of the Mediterranean. This week, men were killed because they went to pray with community in their Jerusalem synagogue.

And today it is snow in Detroit.

Ever wonder at the rapid turn of events that seemingly have no connection but you know deep down are all part of a grand plan? Whatever that plan may be – I am not clued in.

Yesterday, my son finished his three-day visit at Detroit Waldorf School, where he will become a student next month. The teacher told us of a discussion surrounding the popular children’s story, The Three Little Pigs.

The conversation focused on the quality of their character and their intelligence based on what resources they used to build their houses. Was the pig with the straw house necessarily dumber because he used straw to build, or was that simply what he had at the ready in his milieu?

These are not everyday conversations. But they should be. Digging deeper and trying to understand the context is crucial if we are to survive on a spiritual level.

I’m off to make breakfast for my kiddos and then brave the cold to make the world better in my small way today. A few calls to media for clients, gifts purchased for teachers and friends, a visit with a friend over lunch, a benefit tonight for Habitat for Humanity of Oakland County, my client and an amazing effort I support.

All in a day’s work. And the mind keeps spinning onward, wondering at its place in this unique amalgam of worlds.

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