Facebook friends never die – apparently.
I received a birthday notification the other day of a friend who had died the year previous. Um. A little weird. A message from beyond?
Actually, I appreciated the reminder of his exceptional life, his resilience and his courageous battle with cancer. Although I hadn’t known him long, he was the type of person who inspired others through his gentleness, respectful attitude, generosity of spirit, faith and courage. He lived each day fully, offering his life in service to his family, friends, church and clients.
The last weeks of his life, his battle with cancer and decreasing strength were shared in loving detail at the funeral. Photos showed him huddled under a blanket, frail but with a radiant smile.
What impressed those around him most vividly was his blissful state of wonder, which seemed to heighten as his strength declined. He spent almost his entire last days in amazement, repeating, “Oh wow.”
Amazement of what?
What was he oh wowing about?
I want to know. I want to see what he was seeing. I want more “oh wow” in my life.
Do I have to wait until I get sick and die? I want those oh wow moments now. I want my life to be filled with wonder and amazement and gratitude.
Is that unreasonable? Even possible?
Ho-hum is out. Oh wow is in.
“There are only two ways to look at life – as if nothing is a miracle and as if everything is a miracle.” Albert Einstein.
“Whoever has eyes to see, let them see.” Jesus of Nazareth.
We typically think “oh wow” only comes with the new, exceptional or extraordinary. We search for the “oh wow” in the “what is not yet,” rather than seeing with amazement the wonder of what is.
Here I sit on my back porch with my beloved, surveying our garden, noting which flowers have newly bloomed, which need pruning or watering, tracing the bees in their never ending frenzy of pollen gathering. I marvel at how I am part of this miracle of generativity and creativity – and to be sharing it with someone I love.
Tango Magic?
And what about our dancing? (This is after all a blog about Tango).
The magic is there, right in front of us – if we have eyes to see.
In the world in which I was raised, a man and a woman holding each other in a mutually supportive, gentle, generous embrace, without manipulation or power struggles or sexual intent is about as miraculous as things get.
Sometimes the magic of the dance is the synchronization of movement and the execution of flawless technique. But always, the essence of “everything is a miracle” happens with two vulnerable, curious, flesh and blood people committing to hold each other in shy acceptance with no promises, no guarantees, just the adventure of a shared journey.
Sensing, watching, aware.
From this vantage point life does look wondrous, awe-filled, mysterious.
Thanks, friend.
Aydan Dunnigan-Vickruck