Unstable

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Today our sky is a symphony. Or maybe two symphonies from warring orchestras. Both of them conducted by Leonard Bernstein. Colossal clouds banked and stacked, like great Midwestern snow drifts moving through the sky. Colliding and vying for their place in the heavens. Off to the east, the sky is a sheet of rain showers from muddy-gray clouds. To the south, great shafts of sunlight slice open seams in the cloud cover, and create (what I can only believe are) luminous rectangular dance floors on the gunmetal gray water of the Puget Sound. The ferry sways with the swells. The newspaper say that this is all from unstable air. Or an unstable weather front.
Well. Here’s the deal: if the sky can be this heartrending and breathtaking, then stability is highly overrated. We put such a premium on everything “in its place.” (“Would you PLEASE act normal,” a mother pleads with her two young sons in the grocery store yesterday. I waited awhile, curious to see what normal looks like. In the end, it looked like two bored kids.) Maybe we need a day each month as a “celebration of unstable days.” Days when the world and our heart, give birth to passion and infatuation and delight and gusto. Without explanation or apology. Maybe it’s a bit like the Cheshire Cat telling Alice that “you can’t help but be around mad people. You see, we’re all a bit mad here.” Amen.

Passion is the smelling salts of the soul. If you get cut off from your passion then where’s your compassion going to come from? Matthew Fox