Genius

Wile E. Coyote….Genius.

During Sunday’s Weekend Edition on NPR, I heard an inspiring story of one of this year’s MacArthur “Genius” grants recipients- Vijay Gupta. The “genius” grants are awarded to individuals who show "extraordinary originality and dedication in their creative pursuits and a marked capacity for self-direction" According to the Foundation's website, "the fellowship is not a reward for past accomplishment, but rather an investment in a person's originality, insight, and potential".

Mr. Gupta is a violinist for the Los Angeles Philharmonic whose life's work has been to make music accessible to all. Very early in his career he saw the destitution in LA’s Skid Row. He was amazed that individuals with all sorts of troubles- mental illness, chronic homelessness-were within walking distance to one of the world’s greatest concert halls. After meeting a gentleman who due to mental illness dropped out of Julliard and became chronically homeless, Mr. Gupta formed Street Symphony, a group that plays in jails, shelters and clinics.

What I loved about the story were the quotes of Mr. Gupta and his philosophy of doing what he is doing:

"We all have a story and every person deserves access to tell that story. When we listen to someone's story with reverence and respect, their life matters. Their neighborhood matters. Their histories matter," he says. For him music can “…open the pathways to beginning those conversations and to pay attention to the fragility and pain and vulnerability that exists with every single one of us, “

His story once again reminds me of a couple of things:

1) We really do not know someone’s story until they tell us. We cannot make pre-judgements about the people we see or meet. In this case, the gentleman Mr. Gupta met had been living in Skid Row for almost twenty years. Turns out, the fellow was a great musician but because of his mental health, was reduced to living in the streets. It was only in meeting him did he realize that we cannot assume anyone’s story.

2) Every one carries pain and is fragile and vulnerable about something.

3) The Arts- music, visual art, written arts is such a vital component to every one. It lifts us up, it speaks when we cannot, and it can explain our condition. As Mr. Gupta says about the music they performed for the “street” folks:

"It was our audiences in these spaces who would raise their hands and say 'Well what was the composer feeling when they wrote that because I heard this.' And then they would tell us a story or anecdote of their life that exactly reflected where the composer or where we as performers exactly were in our emotional life," Gupta says. "So this was actually one of the most astute and emphatic and engaged audiences that we'd encountered in our lives."

What about you? What makes you fragile? Has anyone ever paid attention to your vulnerability? How did that make you feel?

Have you ever witnessed another person’s pain? What did you do about it? What was the circumstance that led to the sharing of either your own pain or another’s?

How do you respond to the Arts? How can you share the Arts with someone else?

While I am happy for Mr. Gupta and don’t want to belittle his “genius” award, I think each one of us has a genius within: when we connect with one another through word, picture or thought, we share our authentic selves and in turn invest in another’s potential.

Same Moon

My view out the back porch this morning...

This morning I arose early with a feeling of excitement.  Not quite the excitement as when I was little and I knew something special was going to happen that day, e.g. Christmas or traveling on vacation, but still that rumble of expectation in one's belly.

Today is the posting of my meditation "The Path of Mercy" online and the opportunity to see and respond to comments from the Upper Room readers.   I was surprised to see that there were comments at such an early time of morning but then I remembered that this is a world wide publication and the day starts earlier for different parts of the world!

What really struck me was how similar our needs and thoughts are.  I felt such a connectedness. Here are people around the world, living in homes different from mine, speaking different languages, eating different foods, looking different from me and yet we share the same love of God.  We all are striving to be better Christ followers and many of our concerns are the same. 

It makes me feel humble and proud at the same time,  

Humble that the things that concern me and weigh on my heart are not nearly as heavy as what some people bear. My heart goes out to each one as I think about their situations.

Pride in that I am part of this great big beautiful world.  How did we, mere humans, get to be so privileged that we can have a relationship with the Creator of this world and be entrusted to be its stewardship?  Why are we so fortunate that we can have the choice if we want to serve God or not? God doesn't push us, coerce us or force us.  He invites us.  How amazing that we can join God by just responding to an invitation. In my smallness I recognize that I am part of the bigger picture.

How wonderful to know that my fellow brothers and sisters in Christ are seeing the same moon that I saw this morning.  

How cool is that?   

What about you?  Do you ever think about your place in this world?  Do you feel connected to others?  To God?  

The African Doctor

The other night my husband and I watched a movie, The African Doctor.   It is a 2016 French film about a newly graduated Congolese doctor who becomes the doctor for a small conservative village in France.  Seyolo Zantoko struggles with his family to integrate into a small rural village and ends up being considered as one of the most respected doctors in the area.  It is a heart-warming "true" story.

What I liked was the idea that community begins when Dr. Zantoko and some villagers take the risk to get to know one another.  In this case, the doctor joins the men in learning to play darts at the local pub.  

Makes me think about getting to know the strangers in my midst.  Do I take the risk in getting to know them?  Do I sacrifice time with those I already know in order to greet and meet those whom I don't?  Should I? 

I think there is a responsibility in community to take that risk; whether that is a group with which I am involved, my neighbors in community or in the larger world.  Of course there are times when we do need to "honker down home" and regroup with people who already know us.  We need the stability of established relationships to get through a patch of tough time. But to permanently settle into little isolated segments does nothing to promote understanding, connection and peace in the world.

I know that I have talked a lot about this topic on these blog postings.  But it seems every where I turn I see disconnect- people not only disagreeing but violently so.  Communities, cross the globe are closing in ranks and hiding behind a curtain of nationalism and isolationism.  

Yet, I also see glimmers of people reaching out to one another and in doing so are forming broader communities.  Perhaps it is due to a common enemy that is drawing dissimilar people together.  But I would hope that it is because love always trumps hate. Love takes risks. Love takes time.  Love is the only hope for society to continue.  

It makes my day better knowing that I have connected to someone- whether that is a smile, kind word or long chat.  Hopefully it is reciprocated-  that "someone's" day has improved too in knowing that there has been a connection.  It is looking for commonalities rather than differences.  In The African Doctor, it was the common cause of the children and their activities that finally cemented the relationship between the Zantoko family and the village.

What about you?  Do have any time this holiday weekend to connect to someone else?  A long distant relative or friend?  A stranger in the store?  Have you seen any movies  or read any books lately where these theme of connection have occurred?  What were the titles?  What spoke to you in these stories? Were there any truths to be gleaned? 

Instead of letting things happen around you, what steps can you take to keep the means of connection open? What activities can you find that might connect you with people you wouldn't normally associate? 

How would you respond if you were plunked down into a community where you didn't know anyone?  How would you connect?  Perhaps it is time that we all think of others in that way.