Opinions expressed in this piece are solely those of the author.
In a crowded sanctuary, the whistled notes rose and fell. They warbled and wobbled along with the music, and always just slightly off key. Husband on one hand and son on the other, we sang together with the congregation. And behind us, that piping tune.
Turning, I saw the source. I knew him, the cheerful whistler. A son of friends, he, too, was worshipping with his family. In the dimly lit assembly, I smiled to myself, recalling a pleasant evening we’d spent in their home. The Whistler had proudly shown us his Wingfeather collection, a source of endless delight. With the signature happy innocence of those with Downs, he had eagerly shared his special possessions with us, and we found it wholly endearing.
Recently, we watched again the enchanting movie, “Mr. Magorium’s Wonder Emporium.” In it, Mr. Magorium, played by Dustin Hoffman, owns and operates a magical, eccentric toy store for children. Molly Mahoney (Natalie Portman) is his apprentice. Together, they welcome children of all ages into the place where toys come to life, and exploration is encouraged. The store teems with life and color.
Toward the end of the movie, Mr. Magorium announces to Mahoney that he is “going away,” and he is giving her the store for good. She is devastated, begging him to stay, willing him not to die, but he knows his time has come.
It is in one of the final scenes that he offers something profound to his protégé. “Your life,” he says, looking at his young assistant, “is an occasion. Rise to it.”
For days, now, those words have been ringing in my mind. “Your life is an occasion. Rise to it.”
In the era of social media and instant news, there is much that clamors for our attention. When war breaks out, we know immediately. When tragedy strikes somewhere in the world, the headlines flame—for 15 seconds until the next, new tragedy falls. All of it is accompanied by a barrage of voices shouting opinions and offering analysis. Suddenly, the universe is privy to our thoughts and feelings, and everyone must hear what we think and feel.
It is hard to think straight in the never-ending uproar. It is easy to lose our way, to lose sight of the simple and the true. It is impossible to feel properly sorrowful and compassionate for an entire world of hurting and hate-filled people all day, every day.
Compassion fatigue? We’ve got it.
Truthfully, we were never meant to know everything and to feel every sorrow of every person everywhere. It’s not so much a failing as it is an impossibility. The human soul and psyche were never meant to carry such weight. Just as the body eventually crumbles beneath a heavy load upon the back, so, too, does the soul. We must take care of our own souls.
Coming back to truth is a relief. As sunlight pierces through fog, simplicity brings us back. And simplicity, for today, starts here. “Your life is an occasion.”
You, dear soul, what are you doing with this one life that you have? Laying the news aside, how are you spending your time, the precious commodity that is trickling away? Are you spending it on superficial things that, in the long run, don’t matter?
Are you flogging yourself with a whip called Perfection, demanding the unattainable before you’ll allow yourself to rest or to believe that you are loved? (Of note, if you are doing this to yourself, you are doing it to others, and your relationships will feel that lash.)
Are you obsessing about things you can’t control, consumed by fear? If so, are you actively fighting it or are you giving way to it? One way you will know is by checking the level of your love for other people. Fear and love are opposites, and your thoughts and actions will reveal which is greater.
Fear undergirds and births hatred, for we generally end up hating what we fear. Those with eyes to see and ears to hear will have caught this, the underlying fear in the strident, angry, hate-filled voices that shriek in the public square. Society is suffering from the consequences through divisions, strife, and unrest.
With this one life you have, what if you began some new practices? What if you practiced celebration? We have been blessed with friends who are stellar at celebrating. When something good happens to someone else, they call a party. They celebrate! Being happy for the success of others is one mark of a strong character.
Instead of waiting until you’re the best at something you enjoy, what if you did it anyway? What if you painted a picture in your imperfect way? Wrote a book in your unique voice and style? Sang a song, though you’re not Celine Dion? Or, say, whistled in public, even though it’s off key? What if that?
What if you practiced joy, even in sorrow, by looking for glimmers of good? Offered grace in place of condemnation that seems justified? Encouraged someone else instead of waiting to be encouraged? What if you tried, even if it meant you could fail?
One day, we will all “go away.” One day, we will have used our last chance. What we choose now will affect how we finish.
Your life, my friend, is an occasion. It’s time to rise to it.
