Walking a Thin Line – More on Mortality 6-22-11

Atlanta, GA

A week ago I was up all night with 8 out of 10 pain after being strafed in the dark by a swarm of yellow jackets, never even seeing my attackers; not laid out on the floor but close. Three years ago a dear friend was struck down by a cloud of these in the light of day, her beloved husband watching her writhe in last agonies. Initially wondering if I might go into anaphylactic shock and soon be done with this wondrous experience of life, the night proved sleepless with my pain refractory to analgesics. My pain remained daunting the next day until mid afternoon and then dropped off to a 5 or 6 out of 10. I slept the second night and was pain free the following day and have remained so. I was struck with intense pain and it proved short lived, leaving no apparent deficits. I wonder why Joan paid with her life for the same experience while I had but one unpleasant night and day. I walked a thin line.

I speculate about people who never get paroled from the nightmare of intense pain; how they keep from going insane. I just read a biography of the life of Mattie Stepanek. He was tortured his entire life (all 13 years of it) with an evil neuromuscular disease so rare such that his mother and his three siblings are the only ones world-wide documented to have it. Mattie and his siblings all died from the disorder and their mother will as well. Mattie somehow reached inside of his soul and found God in a way allowing him to transcend his unremitting agony and share a profoundly powerful life message of peace that gained the attentions of people at the very highest levels in society. He wrote five run-away best sellers on peacemaking and acceptance. His message has not faded even seven years after his death. He found some kind of amazing grace to live above his torments. His life message was as St. Catherine’s. "Be the person God meant you to be...and you will set the world on fire." Mattie’s work resonates greatly for me as I strongly believe there is something very specific we are each called to manifest and give away. Yes, the world would be nearly beyond imagination if we were so captivated by such possibilities.

Yesterday I had several close encounters of the fourth kind, reminding me just how fragile and precarious the precious gift of life is. While passing through mid-town Atlanta Friday afternoon en route to the CNN studios a car in front of us in the high-speed high-occupancy lane exploded into a fireball, sending a column of ebony smoke into a hot humid sky. The intensity of the inferno’s heat was amazing. I don’t know how many were immolated, about half a dozen people were soon slowly walking up and down the high speed lane in a daze, waiting for ambulances, fire trucks, and police to arrive. Suddenly life seemed very fragile –a very real image of one’s dreams going up in smoke having just appeared before me; a powerful reminder of our true powerlessness.

After completing our time in the CNN studios we were walking across nearby Williams Street. A car running the red light in the opposite direction set up a cascade of collisions in a very high stakes billiards game. If we had been in the crosswalk a mere second later we would have contributed heavily to the high stakes of that collision. We have so very little power in our lives. We walk a thin line.

Despite seeing a fireball detonate in our path, viewing hundreds of live CNN studio feeds depicting catastrophe across the globe, crossing the street just in time to avoid calamity, the day ended in spectacular fashion. A fine dinner of abundant portion and seasoning re-energized our flagging spirits. A sunset containing virtually every color of the rainbow demarcated the edges of day and night in stunning style. For at least another day my number was not called. Mattie’s was called way too early.

What is absolutely certain is my powerlessness to affect any of the outcomes of the events we experienced in the short span of six hours. I think about Christian scriptures reminding us that God’s true strength is to be found in embracing our powerlessness. I think about foundational precepts of recovery allowing addicts and alcoholics to achieve sobriety by admitting their complete powerlessness and inability to control their lives. “We came to believe that God was doing for us what we could not do for ourselves.” Sometimes looking both ways before crossing the street is just not enough. There are evidently plenty of times when we need a divine intervention just to stay alive, let alone accomplish anything with our lives. We walk a thin line.

Mattie knew from the start that he was going to have to live fast and deeply in order to do what he felt called to; knowing life was going to be very short. His entire life was about creating legacy. He knew attitude was key to experiencing a full and abundant life, even if far too short and filled with too much pain. It is a thin line between gratitude and resentment. “While the facts of your life may not be your choice, the attitude with which you deal with those facts is entirely your choice, and therein lies your capacity to make a meaningful difference in the world, to leave behind an echo and a silhouette that can gently and beautifully shape the future.”I received several graphic reminders that life needs to be lived fast and deeply. Paradoxically, to live fast and deeply one must take time each day to contemplate, to be calm, and hear the Still Small Voice. It’s a very thin line to walk. It’s only then I can hope to leave behind an echo in the human experience, to create legacy.