Above the clouds.

I don’t remember the first time I rode on an airplane, but I remember when flying was exciting, an adventure within my grasp. In particular, I remember a flight leaving Newark Airport under black clouds. When it was our turn, the engines roared, the plane lurched forward, and raindrops slid sideways across my window like wayward tears. Soon we were lost in the dark clouds, and I couldn’t see a thing. After what felt like hours, we cleared the clouds and witnessed the brightest day imaginable.

As I peered at the tops of the clouds. looking for people jumping from one to the other because that’s where I thought heaven was located, I marveled at the contrast between the world below the clouds and the one above. How could the two be part of the same day?

I have remembered that flight often, particularly when the dark clouds of another sort arrive. When rain pelts and tears flow, sometimes sideways, it’s easy to focus only on the darkness and rain, to think what you see is all there is to the day. But what I learned on that flight, and many times since, is that a brightness awaits above, on the other side of the clouds.

The challenge is not only remembering this, but also making the journey through the clouds. They seem darker up close, and, as we travel through, it seems to take forever. We become blind, doubting whether there’s a brighter day above, until we clear the clouds and look in wonder at the brightness surrounding us. Such an arrival causes us to celebrate and give thanks . . . until we find ourselves on the other side of the clouds again wondering all over again if this is all there is!

Someday, we’ll make it through and be able to stay, but, for now, we need to learn the lesson over and over again.

Oh the weather outside is frightful . . .

The snow came and came and came. For a city used to its share of winter weather, this season has been disproportionately generous. Even the most enthusiastic snow revelers have had enough, but news has it there’s more on it’s way.

A friend in Boston sent a photograph of her shoveling the walkway outside her house where the snow on either side is above her head. It’s been a long time since I have seen so much snow, but it reminded me of a truth I learned long ago: don’t let it build up.

I have learned the hard way that the best way to keep a driveway or walkway clear is to vigilantly shovel even if the snow is still falling. Done this way, the shovel loads are light and the work easy. Yes, there are more trips outside and more shovel aerobics, but they are nothing to waiting and trying to clear it all at once. Keep on it, and it’s a cinch. Wait, and you will have twice the work and run the risk of bodily injury.

In other words, it’s like living. The weather of life shows up whether we want it to or not. On relationships, careers, families, spiritual lives, physical lives . . . the snows will fall. We can wait until the snow subsides and do all the clearing at once, or we can learn to vigilantly keep the pathways clear. Yes, it will require more conversations, more time on our knees, or at the gym, but the work is lighter and easier if we stay on it.  Wait, and the mountains of snow will be overwhelming, causing us to quit or experience all kinds of unnecessary pain.

The choice is ours.

Sailing up wind.

I am not a sailor, although I have enormous respect for those who are. Ever since I was a child, I could not figure out how a boat could travel up wind. It was easy to understand how one sails down wind. Opening a sail and letting the wind take us where it will is easy and takes little thought. Sailing up wind, however, is much more difficult and involves tacking back and forth, requiring thought and practice.

As I try to navigate my way through life, I know there are two directions into which I can sail. I can go down wind, which takes little effort or thought. All I have to do is open my sails and let the wind take me where it will. The other choice is to sail up wind, which is harder and requires thought and practice. Both use the same wind, but end up in completely different places.

For me, the wind is life and the fears I so often feel when it arrives. I can let the breeze take me down wind, or I can learn to use the wind to pull me in a different direction. One is easy, the other difficult, but I am convinced up wind is the “more excellent” destination.

People describe the two destinations in a variety of ways - our will and God’s, our false selves and true, our being asleep and awake – but the image of sailing serves to describe the challenge we face no matter how you describe the destinations. To open our sails and let the wind blow us down wind is easy and takes little thought, just like living in our own wills or in our false selves. To head in the other direction is more difficult and requires thought and practice, just like trying to live in God’s will or in our true selves. The wind is the same, but how we decide to use it is not.

I still don’t understand sailing, but I believe it points to an important truth about making my way through life.