The building that I work in has reflective windows on the facade which means when, on stunningly gorgeous fall days like we have been having in Illinois recently, walking in and out of the building you are captured by the illusion that the azure sky continues on forever. While this is most assuredly an aesthetically enticing architectural technique it has an unsettling result by one of the main entrances into the facility. Every day for the last week when leaving work I have been stunned by the same phenomenon: the lifeless yet intact frames of several tiny birds lying on the cement walkway adjacent to the building. This circumstance was a result of these tiny creatures seeing the reflected sky in the windows of the building and flying head on into their own destruction. While this does bring to mind the significance of illusions and not being deceived by the ephemera and surface reflections the world has to offer, for me the first thing that came to mind each day I walked from the building and saw these poor frail lifeless birds strewn on the pavement was an emotional night several years ago where I was very much that poor frail bird butting its head against hard glass.
It was the fall of 2010 and I was basically a hot mess. I was in school full-time, working, and constantly worried about my sister who had recently been diagnosed with metastatic breast cancer. My soul was decidedly beset by heightened emotions and uncertainty of what I could and should be doing to help my sister. This was a constant spiritual undercurrent for me back then and it was often present in my interactions with others. Such was the case one fall evening when after classes I went to dinner with friends. We decided on Italian (my comfort food of choice) and opted for a local place (because in NY there are many many local Italian restaurants) that I had never been to. I was myself and yet I was not myself. As we sat discussing this and that the topic of my sister came up and I felt my nerves pop and my heart quake. I was explaining how I was determined to help my sister raise money to pay for treatment and so I had decided to basically beg and cajole for help through social media. There was a slight pause in the conversation and one of my friends commented on how they had seen my postings and had discussed it with another Facebook friend who had been struck by the vehemence of my recent postings/pleadings. This began a most excruciating philosophical discussion over the "proper" way to get results in such a scenario. It was all very surgical, my heart being cut out quite efficiently in the process of a few general observations made over 3 or 4 minutes by the other member of our party. As the seconds progressed and the food arrived, my head leaned ever further downward as I played with my food and lost my voice. My eyes fogged up with hurt and uncertainty. In those minutes I felt like a trapped bird whose wings were unable to fulfill their purpose leaving me to look wildly for any means of escape. I could not speak much above a whisper in response to the questions being posed. It became obvious to those I was with that our companionable dinner had evolved into a painful autopsy of all of my recent actions regarding my sister and they thoughtfully changed conversational courses to ease my discomfort, and I was grateful.....
stay tuned for what happened next and what I learned about tenderness....posting to follow later this week
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