March 23: "View," Miraculous, Joy Fest

Billy Collins cloud watches . . . 

View

by:  Billy Collins

In the summer sky

a cloud with its mouth open

eats a smaller cloud.

Clouds are pretty magical when you think about it.  I remember spending hours watching clouds when I was a kid, finding walruses and penguins and dragons and Darth Vader.   According to Google, an average one kilometer by one kilometer cumulus cloud weighs around 1.1 million pounds.  That's 550 tons of water vapor floating above our heads.

There's so much in the universe that's miraculous.  I know I go through each and every day with blinders on, not really noticing things like one cloud eating another cloud.  Or bumblebees (they beat their wings more than 130 times per second).  Or the moon (it experiences moonquakes caused by Earth's gravity).  Or trees (there are 12 times the number of trees on our planet than there are stars in the Milky Way).  

Today, I hosted/attended an event at the library where I work.  The event was called the Joy Festival, and it was inspired by the spirit of my dear friend, Helen, who was an instrument of creativity and happiness her whole life.  We (Helen's friends) continued her mission today, lifting spirits, acknowledging pain, spreading wholeness and healing.

My job was probably the most un-Helen-ish part of the day.  As the host, I watched the clock, made sure that the presentations began and ended as scheduled.  Relatively.  Helen never really paid that much attention to time.  We all base our days on Greenwich Mean Time.  Helen ran on Helen Joy Time.  Standing around the Joy Center kitchen, eating crackers and chocolates and hummus, was just as important to her as the poetry workshop or meditation or yoga.  It was all part of the experience.

Helen loved every part of life, from joy to grief and back again.  She embraced the entire mess, and she taught others to do the same.  On a typical Helen day, she would slip sandals on her feet in the morning and go for a 20-plus mile hike, ending up on the shores of Lake Superior.  Along the way, she would run into friends and soon-to-be friends (everyone she met eventually became her friend); stop to forage raspberries when she got hungry; and, when she reached the shores of Superior, she would celebrate her adventure by greeting the seagulls and wading in the water.

Helen was like a cloud--immense and weightless at the same time.  She could be an otter or Queen Elizabeth.  She feasted on each day as if it was going to be her last.  

In short, Helen was a miracle in Saint Marty's life.