Waiting to be noticed

Me? Religious? Not so you would notice, though I do believe in God.

Otherwise, how do I make sense of all this? Why do I have a home, a place to rest my head and a husband who loves me, when others don’t? Why do I have the most amazing child in the Universe? It hardly seems fair, otherwise. There has to be a reason in all this random abundance, so apparently casual and replete with generosity. All this loveliness, just waiting to be noticed.

When I realise that every atom in the Universe is unique, I feel breathless for a while, until I can feel my lungs filling again, and I relax. When I despair at the stupidity of those who should know better – why fight wars, and disputes over land? It’s not as if you can take it with you! – I want to shake them that make those far-off decisions which carry such deadly consequences and tell them to wake up! That to destroy what we barely understand is to blaspheme against the most amazing miracle that is Life Itself. It is urgent, I feel, to have some respect, for Christ’s sake. As my sister says, “There are no pockets in a shroud.”

Meantime, in the midst of knowing how mind-blowingly lucky I am, I carry on doing what I have to: visits to the supermarket, the bank, to see my mother in the care-home where she is no happier than she ever was… I’m away on holiday soon, and have to run the gauntlet of airports, security, bodies seat-belted in, overhead ventilation and everyone on their phones…

I think – when I stop to think – that all of this is such a miracle, we hardly need anything else – no flights, no foreign holidays – to make it better. If we could just wake up and see what is, we would marvel, and never cease to be amazed.

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