Thoughts From a Ordinary Prophet

 

This blog started as a way of writing my way through lymphoma diagnosis and treatment. A year later, my blogging includes stuff about my dog, garden, grand children, life in general. I wonder if I need a new focus.  This silly title draws me: Thoughts From an Ordinary Prophet. I looked up the word prophet. None of the definitions are my intention. However, I could possibly see myself as a spokesperson for a cause or movement with the cause being wanting to increase my ability to love, laugh, notice and savor.

Of course, I need plenty of grace to embrace those four, especially when I’m in a bad mood and want to see the glass half empty. On the other hand, I’m fascinated by how everything I encounter in life can be my teacher, even crappy stuff like peevishness and picking up dog piles in my yard. Speaking of my dog, she could be a prophet since she teaches me how to be present, wag my tail more than snarl, and be enticed by a good path!

If I am open to learning from everyone and everything, and share what I learn with tail wagging enthusiasm, I could be a kind of an ordinary oracle, a seer of the common and normal. In a world besotted with fame, grandeur and celebrities someone in love with simplicity and normalcy could be refreshing.

I love the prayer: God help me want to be ordinary. It smacks us idealists in the face doesn’t it? I love the prayer because it shows me how to embrace my inability to change the world NOW. It means choosing the path less traveled, without attachement to having written a famous book. It means standing by a line of trees, sad they are going to be cut down, but sadder still in never noticing them before knowing of their fate.

The trees ask me: Just how much do I not notice? How often do I sleep walk through life?  How much to I dream of  extraordinary while missing the beautifully ordinary?

I also love Marianne Williamson’s quotes: “Meaningful life is not a popularity contest.” Or “The voice of ego and the world speaks louder than the voice of heart and God.” And especially, "Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.” That last one trips me, makes me want to change the world again. Then I have to sit down and pray to want to be powerfully ordinary.

Perhaps, doing what I love to do most is enough. Perhaps sitting on a bench loving this fabulous earth, being awed by clouds and birds, honoring the life of the dead cat on the roadside, loving my dog, my family, myself, loving others, passing the wonder of stars and moon on to my granddaughters, laughing with the breeze, writing a blog or poetry is actually extra ordinary, and sharing my love of life is prophet-like. If so, then we’re all prophets. If we realized our power, the power of loving, laughing, noticing and savoring, the world would surely change, one ordinary prophet at a time.

Joyfully,

Sharon