Believing Mirrors

(Dedicated to “The Tribe”)

Early on in my life as a creative, I learned about “believing mirrors,” those people who see in us and reflect back to us our true selves and encourage us on our way, but it was another thing to encounter such “mirrors” first hand. I recently visited some wonderful creative people I met a year ago and realized each one of them sees in me something I don’t and reflects back to me things I never thought possible. The experience was disconcerting. In fact, I was tempted to look behind me each time they talked to me thinking they were talking about someone else! It made such an impression on me that I wanted to share it with this small but loyal reading family.

Have you ever had, or do you have now, anyone you consider a believing mirror? They’re the ones whose gaze penetrates your soul and whose smile invites you to take a deep breath. They’re the ones who are curious about what you are up to and don’t let you dismiss their inquisitive questions. They’re the ones who remind you of what you have done in the past when your confidence is running on fumes, and the ones who dream dreams in a way that invites you back into the sandbox to build magical kingdoms. Believing mirrors put air in our tires and fill our tanks in ways that propel us beyond our limited horizons.

At some point today, take a moment and think about people you have, or have had, in your life who are/have been believing mirrors. Get specific. Remember the precise moment they reflected back to you who you are and who you could be. Let the gift of such people fill your soul with divine gratitude.

Then, ask yourself if you’ve been such a person to someone else? When and to whom did you offer such life-giving reflection? Who is in your life right now who could use such a person to encourage them on their way?

I think I’ve reached that stage in life when I only want to concern myself with what truly matters, and surrounding myself with people who are believing mirrors, and trying to be one too, is a step in that direction.

Regardless of what stage of life you are in, I hope you’ll come along.

Yum!

It was Communion Sunday, a day when this large parish shared bread and wine in remembrance of what Jesus did with his disciples at the Last Supper. Christian denominations vary in the way they view communion. Some see it as a remembrance, others as more than a memorial - that Christ is made present through the bread and wine.

However a church views communion, it’s always a solemn and important occasion which is why this particular parish worked with military precision to make sure everything was done “decently and in order.” A crew of dedicated volunteers helped before, during, and after the service. (They even had training sessions, or rehearsals, to make sure things ran smoothly.) As always, everything was in place before the service began. The silver was polished and the bread and wine sat in the back ready to be brought forward at the appointed time.

A family with two small children entered and, without thinking or asking, one of the children reached over and took a piece of bread and popped it in her mouth. Her parents and the usher were horrified, but it was too late. “Yum,” she said with a mischievous grin as she proceeded to strut down the aisle like the beloved child of God she was. There’s a brushstroke in that, I thought to myself when I heard the usher’s account of what happened.

The Last Supper must have been an amazing moment in the disciples’ time with Jesus. Although tensions outside the upper room were high, when Jesus took bread and wine and gave them to the disciples no one knew how important such a meal would become. Once he was gone, the meal became a way to connect to Jesus, to feel (as if to taste) his presence, and throughout the ages, churches have sought to continue this practice in hopes of experiencing Christ’s presence in their own time. Unfortunately, this led to people feeling they needed the Church to experience Christ’s presence or that it is only in the eucharistic bread and wine that God’s presence can be found.

The child who didn’t wait for the church’s permission took the bread because it was there. It looked inviting. What a vivid example, and poignant invitation, she gave to all of us who seek Christ’s presence. We don’t need polished silver, nor dramatic liturgic rituals for Christ to be present. His presence awaits us all. All we have to do is reach out and grab it.

Christ can be known in the breaking of the bread and in the breaking of our lives.

He can be tasted in the wine and in the water of a cold stream.

He can be felt in our hands as we lift them at the altar and as we lift them to hold a loved one, stranger, or someone who’s hurting.

Life, after all, was created by God. Everything (and everyone) in it has the power to bring forth the presence of God. Like the girl in the back of church, we need only look around and reach for the “bread” that’s in front of us.

We’ll feel God’s presence when it is made known to us, and maybe our prayer of thanksgiving when that happens will be as simple and sincere as the young girl’s: yum!

Wedding Lessons

On my calendar was an event that loomed so large it occupied my thoughts for months. It was both an exciting event and one that filled me with dread, or as they say in AA, “impending doom.” Gathered there would be dear friends and others I’d not seen in years. Given all that had happened in my life, there were bound to be people glad to see me and others who were not. I had no choice but to board the plane and be as present as I could, and it has led me to want to share how I made it through.

Step one: Put one step in front of the other. I’ve heard others say, “Feel the pain/dread and do it anyway.” Every bone in my body wanted to turn and run away, and yet that was not an option, so I had to keep walking forward. I needed to take deep breaths and be present as best I could through whatever might come.

Step two: Modify my focus. When thinking only of myself, the anxious waters rose above my nose leaving me unable to breath, but when I thought of others, they receded. “It’s not about you; it’s about them,” was my mantra and that reminder transformed the experience. There were times I started drifting back toward a self-centered way of looking at things, but remembering to focus on others made all the difference.

Step three: Remember, my worth is not found in others. A wise soul once said, “There’s an audience of one.” By that, he meant God, whose opinion is the only one that ultimately matters. We live in a world where we often fall victim of living for the approval of others. That works well for those who live impressive lives, but it is hell (literally) for those of us who have not. People see things (and people) not as they are but as THEY are, and we do not have the ability to control what others see, think, do, or say. Everyone has wounds and those wounds influence the way they see the world and those around them. To remember that everyone has their stuff, whether they’re willing to admit it or not, can bring fresh air for one’s soul at life’s most challenging moments. Like so many things, it’s easier to say than do, but with practice it can lead to a freedom beyond compare. Suddenly rolled eyes, snarly smiles, and overt dismissiveness lose their power.

As you can imagine, there were wonderful surprises during that special event, and other moments and people who challenged me at my core. In the aftermath, I can only look at my part and own what I did well and what I could have done better, but it’s clear that the entire weekend – the good and difficult – was a microcosm of this thing called “life.” Most of my days are not as dramatic as the ones that have just occurred (thank God), but these taught me important lessons.

Maybe they’ll help you, too.