Spark in the Dark...

Every day, I put on a soft, cotton tee shirt smelling of Tide and the dark wood of my drawers. I put on my blue jeans that are always shredded a little bit at the bottom, because I am not very tall and they are somehow just a little bit too big.

Every day, I fill the pockets with my necessities, the credit card, a little crumpled cash, the drivers license with its horrible, outdated religious picture and 'two houses ago' address, my chap-stick, and my brand new apartment keys

-I so appreciate putting those keys into my pocket each day-thank you God for house keys.

Then I fruitlessly try to flatten my pockets for a more streamlined look. It is the act of trying that matters. However the law of physics always applies and my pockets always bulge a bit.

The fact is, I probably need to start carrying a more dignified bag around at some point.

I find socks that sort of match, then lace up my scuffed red Converse sneakers.

I clip my phone to my jeans and sometimes my iPod too, as music makes routine errands into a tolerable symphony, lived out in my streets and supermarkets.

After further ablutions involving taming a tangled mass of hair into passable coils with effort and potions, and creating a look of being actually awake with artfully applied mascara, I am then ready, at least hypothetically, to face the day.

I open the front door and get the children to where they need to go. As I go, I look at the buildings-many in Brooklyn built in a different era, their walls telling stories of generations past, standing shoulder to shoulder with sterile new construction. I look at the people, the very young, the very old, the in between, each with a head full of thoughts. I look at the trees, the saplings sprightly growing while other mighty ancient trunks, tower over me , and I look at the endless seascape of the summer sky stretching across the planet.

and..it is with awe that I feel it, although it is always there... The sensation of being a mere spark in the dark...and I am full of trepidation.

I am so achingly aware of the infinite magnitude of being... the sheer vastness of the universe. All these possibilities, all these chances to grow. The vines of destiny intertwined with the potent power of my choices and the direction of my footsteps, makes my heart heavy inside my chest.

All the freedom to exist so completely in a life which from the minute I am born, steadily starts to dissolve and fade away like salt crystals in the ocean of humanity, that the sheer responsibility of living with meaning, with wisdom, love and understanding hurts like a mortal wound.

A substantial portion of what my future will be, is in my own simple, square-shaped hands. Everything I choose to do, affects my children and those around me who are my breath and bones. The ones I love without measure.

How can I be ever cognizant of what is the path of the wise when sometimes my guiding stars seem obscured by clouds and the child-moon seems swathed in sooty shadows of the heavens?

Yet, standing still, is decision alone, and it is not an option if I truly am to exist.

I walk on the path of my life, my sneakers comfortable at least. As I walk, the path appears under my feet. I do not know if it is the right way, because there is no 'right' way I can see, just 'my way'. Into the dream forest of fate and heart, the gentling green and gold a canopy above my head. I lose sight of the sun in the darkest thickets, then suddenly am aware of it's warmth and light again. Sometimes it is dark and damp and I stumble clumsily. Sometimes blessings fall like rain, and things happen easily.. The way is always exquisite like a dance of sun on leaves, the gravity of raw-scrubbed stones and the soul of water and I am always aware of my own breath as I walk along.

How can I muster the courage to live like a child with eyes forever brimming with wonder? How can I know what I must do for those I love? How can I know what I need to do?

I know it is not with stuff. I know all possessions collected along the way, will simply be luggage left at the doorway at the end of this journey. I think it must be to cultivate and sustain the ones I love, shelter and cherish in this lifetime.

I believe I need to learn, to explore, to exist and to know, but ultimately, it is all, only to know how to love better, to love God better and to even love myself better.

I think for me to set off on yet unknown adventures, it must be with deep courage pulled from the deepest recesses of my soul.

When I look at the few spirits who have become my companions for this journey for a time, the ones I have been lucky enough to know, the family, the friends and those whom I have come to love, truly, wholly, honestly, I suddenly see with sharp resounding clarity what I need to be.

These luminaries, these fellow sparks in the dark...it is them that are my muses to live completely...

After all, love inspires art, love inspires music, love inspires the keening of the spirit...and the balm of the soul... and love inspires the courage to go on... starting with going back to school...

ultimately though, they inspire me to live ignited...