WAITING FOR THE SUN: SUFFERING FROM A.S.S.

One of my favorite songs is by The Doors, Waiting for the Sun. Jim Morrison woefully sings:

Waiting for the sun…Waiting for the sun…
Waiting.... waiting.... waiting.... waiting....
Waiting.... waiting.... waiting.... waiting....
Waiting for you to - come along
Waiting for you to - hear my song
Waiting for you to - come along
Waiting for you to - tell me what went wrong

Recently, I have discovered that I am 'Waiter.' I am often unconsciously waiting for the sun - waiting for things to line up, or postponing enjoyment until the good outweighs or eradicates the bad. I am reminded of Woody Allen's role as Alvy Singer, the neurotic romantic, in the movie Annie Hall. There is an interaction between Alvy (Allen) and his ex-girlfriend Annie Hall, played by Diane Keaton, at an outdoor restaurant. Annie suggests they go somewhere and have some fun. Alvy declines:

Annie Hall: Alvy, you're incapable of enjoying life, you know that? I mean, you're like New York City. You're just this person. You're like this island unto yourself.
Alvy Singer: I can't enjoy anything unless everybody is. If one guy is starving someplace, that puts a crimp in my evening.

ALVY SINGER SYNDROME

I think I have spent too much time suffering from A.S.S., the Alvy Singer Syndrome. Like Woody Allen's character, I have often seen the world through the lens of ubiquitous suffering and universal darkness, "If one guy is starving someplace, that puts a crimp in my evening."

And lest you think you are an immune optimist, consider this cultures chronic obsession with Global Warming, scanning food labels before eating, chronic dieting, the Israeli/Palestinian conflict, the latest fashions, wrinkled skin, not having a 'healthy' relationship, recycling and bicycling, frequent urination and the unemployment rate. I am all for taking care of our bodies and the planet, however, sometimes we are unconsciously "waiting for the sun--to come along," or for someone, or something...to come along.

After the death of my son in 2008, my emotional descent took me a long way from the sun. I found little joy in much of anything. I was in the winter of grief. It was normal, necessary, infinitely valuable and purposeful. For about eight months everything was viewed through the lens of my boy being shot and dying in the Korengal Valley of Afghanistan. I have never known such darkness.

About eight months after Jason's death, I was walking along a quiet shore oon Bainbridge Island, praying, crying and waiting for the sun. I glanced up and saw a Heron gliding high above the water. He tilted his wings downward to slow his flight and regally settled on the bouncing branch of a tall Douglas Fir. My heart spontaneously swelled with joy for this surprising moment of Beauty. The setting sun was radiating a pinkish-orange crown along the horizon behind the bird. I thought my heart would burst. My joyful experience was caught by the thought, "I can't enjoy this, my son is dead." Just then some inaudible voice whispered, "When the moment of Beauty arrives, enjoy it fully."

DANGER OF THE WHOLENESS DOCTRINE: WAITING

One of the dangers in all of our talk about 'wholeness,' saving the earth, the second coming and our American perfectionism, chronic seeking, seeking, seeking and waiting is that we find ourselves always waiting.

Waiting for you to - come along
Waiting for you to - hear my song
Waiting for you to - come along
Waiting for you to - tell me what went wrong
Waiting…waiting…waiting…waiting

What are we waiting for?