Personal legacy
It is Sunday morning. Soon I will be leaving to go hear a friend of a friend speak in church. Although I have met this man and his wife I do not know them well. I do, however, think he will have something to say that I need to hear. I know this man and his wife to be wise, thoughtful, kind people. After church I will join my friends and possibly the speaker and his wife for lunch. It will be a blessed morning. Certainly I am well aware, as the saying goes, that the plans “of mice and men” often go array. I might not make it to church. Something could happen to my friends. Anything could happen.
As I read the morning Tampa newspaper I am reminded of the myriad of life events which suddenly visit. Accidents, wars, floods, substance abuse related incidents, robberies, helplessness morphed into destructive rage or a host of other events are this very moment permanently altering the trajectory of the life of millions of people. There is no reason to think that I am in a “protected bubble” from which I serenely observe the world – where I am in the world but not of the world.
Last night I treated myself to the movie Florence Foster Jenkins starring Meryl Streep and Hugh Grant. The chief character played by Ms. Streep is a very wealthy patron of music in New York City. Her ambition is to be an opera singer. Sadly, this very kind woman is not blessed with a voice which can find the key or the notes. As is true for all of us she has a limited range of gifts. Because no one in the music world wants to risk forgoing her generous donations she is not told the truth. Even a famous maestro gives her “singing lessons” and pretends that she has promise as a singer. Near the end of the story she books Carnegie Hall for a performance. The audience openly mocks her. One of the members of the audience who is married to this wealthy businessman, who is obviously lacking in finishing school polish, stands up and tells them how to behave towards this woman who has given so much to the community. Although some might have judged this “lower class woman” as “less than” she has more substance than all the finishing school graduates in the audience. Many of the military people in the audience recognize this even it others do not.
There are other heroes in this movie, not the least of whom is a diminutive, quiet, young pianist and composer who has an epiphany about the fact that kindness to the singer who cannot sing might be more important than his career, or the husband of Florence, a very mediocre actor, who may have married for money but tenderly and lovingly assured her as she nears death that she has brought much joy to many. This, of course, is not a lie The song she sang in day-to-day life was generous and gifted in love even if the operatic voice was not the instrument she wanted.
The audience is also told that this very wealthy woman has lived with syphilis for some 50 years – a disease she got from her philandering first husband. She is in many respects a woman of courage.
Earlier in the day I had conversations with some individuals who desperately wanted to be treated with fairness by family members or others whose journeys their journey had intersected. They were convinced that their happiness and quality of life were dependent on others loving them unconditionally no matter what their past actions. I reminded them and myself – mostly myself - that if we want unconditional love we have to be willing to give it. Ironically, many of us “notice” that we are quick to judge those we experience to be judgmental. We somehow convince ourselves that our ability to love unconditionally is dependent on the other person(s) first loving us unconditionally – forgiving or looking past all past misdeeds. Yet, if we think about it, the sages who have reminded us that if we do not have the self-respect of “a life well lived” we will not be able to experience love even if it visits. It will never be enough. There is also some nuance of forgiveness and unconditional love which “the other(s)” miss.
The no class, street woman who stands up in Carnegie Hall clearly reminds the audience of soldiers who are fighting for a more loving and just world that they must first offer it to “the least of them.” In this case, this wealthy, patron of the music world is “the least of them” in terms of her singing voice. The truth is that we are all “the least of them.” It is perhaps in owning this fact that we take the first step in claiming the only power we have in this brief journey of life – to quit waiting for the other(s) to love unconditionally and to practice doing so ourselves.
Written August 21, 2016
It is Sunday morning. Soon I will be leaving to go hear a friend of a friend speak in church. Although I have met this man and his wife I do not know them well. I do, however, think he will have something to say that I need to hear. I know this man and his wife to be wise, thoughtful, kind people. After church I will join my friends and possibly the speaker and his wife for lunch. It will be a blessed morning. Certainly I am well aware, as the saying goes, that the plans “of mice and men” often go array. I might not make it to church. Something could happen to my friends. Anything could happen.
As I read the morning Tampa newspaper I am reminded of the myriad of life events which suddenly visit. Accidents, wars, floods, substance abuse related incidents, robberies, helplessness morphed into destructive rage or a host of other events are this very moment permanently altering the trajectory of the life of millions of people. There is no reason to think that I am in a “protected bubble” from which I serenely observe the world – where I am in the world but not of the world.
Last night I treated myself to the movie Florence Foster Jenkins starring Meryl Streep and Hugh Grant. The chief character played by Ms. Streep is a very wealthy patron of music in New York City. Her ambition is to be an opera singer. Sadly, this very kind woman is not blessed with a voice which can find the key or the notes. As is true for all of us she has a limited range of gifts. Because no one in the music world wants to risk forgoing her generous donations she is not told the truth. Even a famous maestro gives her “singing lessons” and pretends that she has promise as a singer. Near the end of the story she books Carnegie Hall for a performance. The audience openly mocks her. One of the members of the audience who is married to this wealthy businessman, who is obviously lacking in finishing school polish, stands up and tells them how to behave towards this woman who has given so much to the community. Although some might have judged this “lower class woman” as “less than” she has more substance than all the finishing school graduates in the audience. Many of the military people in the audience recognize this even it others do not.
There are other heroes in this movie, not the least of whom is a diminutive, quiet, young pianist and composer who has an epiphany about the fact that kindness to the singer who cannot sing might be more important than his career, or the husband of Florence, a very mediocre actor, who may have married for money but tenderly and lovingly assured her as she nears death that she has brought much joy to many. This, of course, is not a lie The song she sang in day-to-day life was generous and gifted in love even if the operatic voice was not the instrument she wanted.
The audience is also told that this very wealthy woman has lived with syphilis for some 50 years – a disease she got from her philandering first husband. She is in many respects a woman of courage.
Earlier in the day I had conversations with some individuals who desperately wanted to be treated with fairness by family members or others whose journeys their journey had intersected. They were convinced that their happiness and quality of life were dependent on others loving them unconditionally no matter what their past actions. I reminded them and myself – mostly myself - that if we want unconditional love we have to be willing to give it. Ironically, many of us “notice” that we are quick to judge those we experience to be judgmental. We somehow convince ourselves that our ability to love unconditionally is dependent on the other person(s) first loving us unconditionally – forgiving or looking past all past misdeeds. Yet, if we think about it, the sages who have reminded us that if we do not have the self-respect of “a life well lived” we will not be able to experience love even if it visits. It will never be enough. There is also some nuance of forgiveness and unconditional love which “the other(s)” miss.
The no class, street woman who stands up in Carnegie Hall clearly reminds the audience of soldiers who are fighting for a more loving and just world that they must first offer it to “the least of them.” In this case, this wealthy, patron of the music world is “the least of them” in terms of her singing voice. The truth is that we are all “the least of them.” It is perhaps in owning this fact that we take the first step in claiming the only power we have in this brief journey of life – to quit waiting for the other(s) to love unconditionally and to practice doing so ourselves.
Written August 21, 2016
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