Cinema Sunday- Lessons I’ve learned from the Movies: Practicing, “Yes!”

Mr Stay Puft Marshmallow man

Ok, so here’s my little self-talking to as I reach the end of the school year and things get crazy – I can’t get everything done without a little help from my friends…

We probably all remember the Ghostbusters quote:  “Ray, when someone asks you if you‘re a god, you say ‘YES’!”  Well, I always try to think of Ray (aka Dr. Raymond “Ray” Stantz – aka Dan Aykroyd) when someone says, “Can I bring something?” Or, “Can I help you?” … Say “yes” more frequently – people really want to help.

When I’m hesitant, I’ve got to remember that I’m actually doing the generous thing by accepting their offer and by just saying “yes, thank you!”  We all want to feel like we are part of a team effort – a community. Giving and receiving help is integral to generating that feeling.  So, I’ve just got to learn this lesson … BEFORE the world sends Zuul OR the Stay Puft Marshmallow guy out after me.

Grief’s Shadow

Part of every misery is, so to speak, the misery’s shadow…or reflection… I not only live each endless day in grief, but live each day thinking about living each day in grief.

C.S. Lewis

Grief separates – like a great gate of heaviness that comes down and forces us from them.  I have vivid memories of sitting in a limousine looking out, but unable to savor the bluest of sky and the whitest of clouds on a perfect mid-week morning. What cruel fate that this was my first limousine ride – an event that should be saved for a prom or a wedding – some joyous occasion.  I remember thinking that we should banish the limousine.  Mourners should request a Chevy Malibu or Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme when we accompany the dead – in a tip of the hat to that deadened feeling inside — a plain, sensible, somewhat disappointing model is a far more fitting ride for the bereaved.

What you do notice is how unfair it is that all the others on the road are hastening elsewhere: to gather groceries, or in a rush, zooming by on their way to pick up a child from the nursery school around the corner.  Meanwhile you sit frozen, like a captive zoo creature, looking out forlornly and hoping they will take just a moment from their mundane day to recognize from their view of a hearse that they are passing fellow humans who must be in grief. There is a magnificent distance from us to them. They are but strangers passing totally unaware of the profound hole that the bereaved find themselves in.  At least in small towns in the South, people still stop respectfully and avert their gaze when a funeral cortège passes through.

Wellesley has had its fair share of grief this spring.  So, I invite you to choose a time where you can wait idly for a moment or two in the next couple of days –  maybe just slow down and join me in pulling over onto the side – be it while running an errand or in the driveway – just a pause and a thought about our neighbors’ and friends’ gates of grief.  It is a simple and reflective way to honor that magnificent distance we know our neighboring grievers are feeling.