----------------------------------------
The Extremes
September 27th, 2017
----------------------------------------

In an earlier phost I spoke about the wedding and funeral I was
facing. I'm back from that long weekend now and I've had time to
digest both events.

The moments in life marked by extreme emotion stand out from the
crowd of memory. I can remember fights from my childhood. I
remember breakups and exhilarating moments of pure joy. It makes
sense, of course. Why would we remember all the mundane stuff with
the same clarity as the things that got our hearts pumping? I'm
sure there's some biological stuff in it too.

This weekend was a combination of extreme sadness and extreme joy
with nothing to cushion one from the other except a seven hour
drive. The viewing was first. A close friend lost his father
unexpectedly. My own dad is in pretty bad shape, health-wise, and
my mind is already thinking about the soon-to-come. This viewing
gave me a taste of it.

I was a Jesuit novice in the not-too-distant past. I worked in
hospice care there, as one of several apostolic works. I remember
the first time I went to the hospice, not knowing what I'd be asked
to do or what the experience would be like. If you had stopped me
then and asked to guess, I'd have talked about sadness, grief, and
the consolation of family. Instead I found a place of profound joy.
I don't think I can do it justice through words, but to give you a
sense of what it was like you need to think about the catharsis of
a really good cry. When you can express yourself without any
reservation and be completely and totally authentic, and when you
can share that experience with another person without any care to
judgement there's an incredible weight that lifts. It's a weight of
our own making and our own relationships, and one that is arguably
necessary for day-to-day living. It's also a weight that goes away
in the "moments that matter". Funerals, viewings, in the face of
present tragedy and loss when we are all reminded of our frailty
and limitations, of our own transience and we cling to each other
like floating wreckage upon an endless sea; there is no need for
facade. We are authentic and the experience we have is one of joy.

That's what happened at the viewing. In the midst of an unarguably
tragic loss, in the center of the grieving of family and friends,
the coming together in authentic love for the man, gone, and for
the support of those surviving was one of love. There was
opportunity to express that love in words and in presence.

The wedding, likewise, was a testament to love through presence and
sharing. Authenticity in joy! In sharing of unbelievable happiness
written across faces that never expected it, that same weight
lifted.

I asked you to spend 30 seconds with me in the last phost to
imagine what those feelings might bring. Try it again with what
I've shared and see if you can find a hint of your own true
authentic joy creeping out of the shadows for a moment.
.