Angel RehearsalsI would like to fly. No question about it. Enough of these dreams where I'm driving the red convertible and the steering wheel pops off and I toss it behind me with devil-may-car screw-Triple-A insouciance and proceed headlong zig-zag down terrifying Lombard Street in San Francisco right into the Bay, finally to stagger out soggy with many bandaids plastered over me like an unfortunate cartoon character -- enough of that dream -- I wanna fly. Give me the flying dreams please.
In fact, I am scheduled to fly tomorrow night. On Christmas Eve, I MUST fly down the aisle of my church for the Nativity Pageant in an angel gown, my hair tied up in angel ribbons, and sing Top 40 Xmas Hits like Angels We Have Heard On High for the crowd. I tear it up on Gloria In Eggs-Shells-Seas Day-O!
I'm glad to be an angel this week, because I've been rehearsing a lot lately. So many of my friends are going through hellish stuff here at this "Happy" Christmas time. I have friends with parents just hanging on a thread, friends with no threads left, dressing in black for funerals only 24 or 48 hours before Christmas Day, friends finding themselves in emergency rooms, friends shouldering burdens I know I couldn't manage carrying. My heart goes out to them. My angel outfit is working overtime. I hope I'm helping.
I feel blessed to be near them and hear them out. These things must be given an airing. The truth of our lives and our daunting circumstances must be put right out there -- to hang in mid-air -- and words that seem leaden and heavy are some how made a little lighter -- an angelic alchemy to be sure.
Angels know how to beat their wings like veritable happy hummingbirds in a air cleansing vibration that says, "Not to worry, all things must pass, keep on keeping on, but for the grace of god go we all, don't give up the ship!" Cocoa and coffee help too. 'Tis the season for the great rush of angel wings and I thank all my friends and family who let me fly through their lives beating my wings.