What is yours?
Reflections from quarantine
Nearly a month has passed. A month with limited distractions. A month sitting with myself… Who is this person? It has been years since I have escaped into the woods to find myself, to commune with the person who happens to be named Brandon Paul Maye. In the busyness of the day to day, swamped by the distraction of a loud world, we have missed out on so many opportunities. We sit in the stillness of morning, just as the first light of day caressing the tops of the pines. He begins to tell me of beauty and the patience in a life well lived.
He looks up to the magnanimous Carolina sunrise, wisps of pink painted against the deluge of pastel blue. There is a whisper of lavender, a kiss of orange, all the colors are dancing in as the sun rises from her slumber. He says,
“There is healing in Beauty. In this moment, we slow down enough to let our heart mend. The sky, in all her glory, is showing you there is grace in recognizing a single moment of time. She speaks of a new start, a new chance. Just as she overcame the darkness, you will too. While your last battle against the night raged with an inferno of crimson, of orange, violent purple, and indigo, this one will bring you to a softer place. Your colors will be a flag of peace, meekness, and love. Your eyes will beam with an openness, a receptive nature. Much like the forest floor after a soaking rain. The darkness is replaced with a green of new growth, the warm amber hues of honey, the fresh beams of sunlight filtering through the canopy, and there will be the steadfastness of oak. My friend, just as the sky has shown, your life be warmed, blooming in beauty, a light shining to lend aid to those hurting all around. May your life be a sign of beauty.”
As I reflect on these words, I realize the importance of my life isn’t in the job held, the pride in a new car or motorcycle, a bigger house, or in the “power” afforded us by fame. It is not in accumulation of accolades and wealth. It is in what passes from my heart and hands to others. We all are fighting, we all are suffering. If I may listen and provide a kind word, or sit in silent companionship with those in deep sorrow, or to share a warm meal with someone on a different path, even if it is to soften the pain of just a single person, my life will not have been lived in vain. This is my purpose. This is my path. This is my passion. What will be yours?
