A horrible mystery

I am still surprised that the children and parents showed up for the performance at all.

After I entered the dark school, found the custodian who turned on the lights, I sat for a while in the well-lit auditorium wondering if any of the dancers and parents would show up on such a horrifying day for American school children.

I thought I would not be disappointed if they stayed in the perceived safety of their own homes so close to the Christmas holiday. Also, it was snowing and the roads were slippery.

The first family to arrive had two children in the performance and six others, all foster children. Soon other families started to arrive with their “little angels.” Each class wore a different color. The nervous, happy and excited children were rushing around like spirited moving color-forms. The parents greeted each other and vied for the best seats. Soon the auditorium was packed. One group of children after another danced, first to a rocking version, of “Jingle Bell Rock.” Then the next group danced to my favorite Christmas song, “Grown Up Christmas List” which contains this timely lyric:

“Do you remember me?
I sat upon your knee
I wrote to you with childhood fantasies.
Well I’m all grown up now.
Can you still help somehow?
I’m not a child but my heart still can dream.
So here’s my lifelong wish
My grown up Christmas List
Not for myself
But for a world in need.
No more lives torn apart.
That wars will never start
And time will heal our hearts.
Every man will have a friend.
That right will always win
And love will never end
This is my grown-up Christmas list.
May kindness rule our lives,
Not just the strong survive.
Sweet tears for all the thousand years on mind.
This is the world I pray
We will all share some way.
Help me begin by reaching out my hand.
This is the prayer that I will keep.
This is my grown up Christmas list.

It seemed to me out of the 17 years I have presented this program at holiday time in Saratoga Springs, and in spite of the tragedy, the true spirit of the holidays was the strongest this year.

No direct reference was made by anyone to the massacre of 20 tiny children, which occurred only hours before the performance. At the end, I thanked everyone for coming and told them to have a good holiday and stay safe.

As I was about to leave the stage, the father of the eight foster children took the microphone and made a plea: “I ask everyone in our community to soul-search over the coming weeks and lend their support to our nation’s leaders who have the power to pass laws that honor the futures of our precious children.”

Impermanence and random occurrence

Life has become frightening. Fears about the economy, the weather, random acts of violence, the threat of terrorism and the ever-present possibility of an illness or accident cause low-level stress and anxiety often without awareness of it bubbling to the surface of consciousness.

It is tempting to assuage our fears with false comforts. I knew a man who believed because he meditated and was spiritual, terrible outcomes were not possible for him. He believed “hard life lessons were unnecessary for his growth because he was already spiritually evolved.” Nevertheless, this man would not get out of his car and walk the short distance into his house during a thunderstorm.

A former student of mine believed he survived a tour-of-duty in Iraq because he “practiced the one true religion and prayed each day for safety.” This young man told me how devastated he was that I was not going to heaven because I was an “unbeliever.” When I asked him if any of his comrades who were the same religion died in the war, he looked at me dumbfounded. Of course they had, and many “unbelievers” by his definition survived.

Prayer is not a vending machine where you ask for what you want and out pops the desired outcome. Awful events happen to innocents like the children in Sandy Hook Elementary School. And no matter how much we search for reasons and place blame, it’s a mystery.

Since the massacre, I have been asking myself how I would live differently if I could accept with courage the impermanence of life and the ever-present danger of random tragedies. I have also asked a yoga teacher, a Buddhist, a doctor, a prisoner and an assortment of friends and family members.

We all agreed to still be careful and vigilant to up the odds of staying safe. We do not have total control, but we do have some control. We can eat right, not drink and drive, exercise and take care of our medical needs and support legislation that will help protect people from gun violence, although nothing will insure the desired outcome.

Most said they would still pray for peace and for goodness to prevail, maybe with less expectation but still with hope. All said they would work each day to increase the amount of love for themselves, for others and for the world, since one cannot predict when the opportunity to do so would be gone.

As if my daughter was reading my mind, just as I wrote the sentence above this one, she came into my office and for an instant, with great presence, held my head gently between her hands and said, “I love you.” Let’s all do that every chance we get.