This dolly with the linebacker neck - which I hadn't noticed, or so I tell myself - is a vintage Rubbermoon stamp image. She sprang then, and reappears now, as a reminder that blessings arrive in disguises that would scandalize Priscilla, Queen of the Desert
. As I remember the details, her original inspiration was a borderline enraged air conditioner repairman with zero people skills who woke me up to...something. Incognito, duh.Sometimes we have the glad assignment of being the instrument; sometimes we are chosen to receive the gift. In either role, we, often without knowing, breathe life into hope, participate in and bear witness to the miraculous, the impossible.
Today I dedicate this abbreviated post with its muscular angel, and if I am allowed angels, I sure as hell hope they continue to be muscular by some definition, to a friend who appeared with spools of ribbon and shelves of poetry to expand my knowledge, enrich my life. It is not her natal birthday but if I had the necessary volumes of arcana, I bet they would tell me that today is her name day, her saint's day, her Botticelli's Venus rising from the sea day.
I would be the first to demur any likelihood of my own role as gift, yet I have been told such is the case by those I trust. In mismatched tops and bottoms, crunky hair and drooping eye pouches that suggest post-Civil War carpetbaggers, I apparently possess not only the possibility of being a camouflaged fairy godparent, you AND I absolutely ARE those rare, fluttery, benevolent presences to each other.
Look not askance at whatever crosses your line of sight today. Be attuned to the most hushed and coded whisperings of the unseen. Embrace what may seem unlikely and pay attention, with suspended disbelief, when it seems your most immediate wish has been granted.
We, angels one and all, might be well advised to organize, develop secret Masonic-style handshakes (oops, have I said too much?), bear some identifying lapel flower or carry a folded copy of Rolling Stone (Annie Leibovitz cover) in order to know who-is-who without a lot of dithering about.
But that would remove some of the luscious mystery, wouldn't it? And besides, with the key phrase "pay attention" in mind, we already know, we always know.
As I've written before, like seeks like; like finds like. The universe is one vast network of matchmakers, only, unlike some questionable on-line services, the universe gets it right. We are, at least in my case in utter imperfection, introduced to each other at the perfect moment, with the supreme extra bonus prize of having the rest of our days to celebrate, to bask in, our extraordinary good fortune.
14 comments:
Dear Marylinn, this is a small miracle of a post! How beautifully you capture the sublime, mysterious magic that ignites between and among us.
Excuse please if I simply repeat most of your last paragraph, which is the single best description I've seen of something that happened to me a couple years ago. Reading it was like reliving in high-def the day the universe (and nothing less)—working under the most unlikely circumstances—choreographed just such an uncanny match. A day like any other became a day like no other. It has reverberated with abundance since. Thank you for your eloquence (and wit) putting it into words:
"The universe is one vast network of matchmakers, only, unlike some questionable on-line services, the universe gets it right. We are, at least in my case in utter imperfection, introduced to each other at the perfect moment, with the supreme extra bonus prize of having the rest of our days to celebrate, to bask in, our extraordinary good fortune."
Timothy - Thank you for your generous appreciation. I feel this particular magic strongly and marvel, as though for the first time, when I find it has happened, astonishingly, again. Not always to the same degree, yet are there even degrees of magic? Probably not. I am delighted to know of such a determined, impossible goodness finding its way to you.
AH!
Propped up in bed with the last of a second cup of tea and not much more excuse to lounge about,
I will face my day with this in mind. It's been a rough week with all sorts of weird happenings, so I will pay attention to see what is up with my angels.
Denise - I am sorry for a rough week. Sometimes sleep is the only thing that can smooth those patches. Ah, but weirdness holds possibilities. If the universe has not yet performed its newest sleight-of-hand, you won't have to wait long. And I know you know just where to look for the magic. xo
speechless. and that's a good thing.
as always, marylinn, i feel like i am gazing up at you, bewitched, thinking, dang, that woman is hella smart.
keep on keepin' on, my friend!
One wonders whether she belonged to the Olympic swim team perhaps?
Thank you for this angelic post. A wonderful reminder what joining the right band can mean.
Who couldn't use an angel with line-backer shoulders in their life? The wonderful truth of it is, that as soon as you open yourself up to the possibility of like-minded angels out there - they appear, as if, dare I say it, by magic. If I've learned anything in this last amazing decade it's that if you get out of the way - the universe does indeed "get it right."
We all are angels, are we not? Mostly angels of mercy, with the occasional death angel tossed in there.
Susan - You are too kind, thank you. As long as the notions keep rolling in, they will continue to appear here. I always hope they come somewhere near the mark. xo
Antares - The swim team, of course! I knew I'd seen those shoulders somewhere. You are welcome.
Amazingly, I found the lyrics running through my head. From "Coal Tattoo," a folk song by Billy Edd Wheeler:
"Someday when I die and go
To Heaven, the land of my dreams,
I won't have to worry on losin' my job
To hard times and big machines.
I ain't gonna pay my money away
On dues and hospital plans.
I'm gonna pick coal while the blue heavens roll
And sing in the angel band."
Erin - Angels, ourselves included, are sometimes ideally suited for the heavy lifting; no one is required to be strong every moment. How eye-opening it is to learn that magic is more a process of allowing than anything else.
Robert - I do believe we all have our moments as angels, of mercy, of illumination, of compassion, of joyful foolishness, of generosity. I don't know about a connection to the death part. I fervently hope it is not part of our assignments.
Glorious, Marylinn! You may claim "utter imperfection" but your writing, and angelic philosophy, is nothing short of perfection.
I, for one, know that an angel fluttered above the day I stumbled on to MK's blog. Thank you for sending abundant inspiration into the universe. :)
Jayne - Thank you. It was indeed a benevolent day when we found one another. Your comments are always so generous, I am grateful. xo
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