I am bringing trash and recycling to the edge of my driveway.
I am tired. I am discouraged, for way too many reasons. I turn back to finish my morning routine with a sigh. The sky is still dark enough to see the stars and Orion is standing between my home and the basketball hoop on the side of the driveway. As he does most of the time.
I am a stargazer (as many of you know). Somehow I feel comfort in the smallness of being a single person on a single planet in this vast universe. Orion is my favorite constellation (and no, not because of the Prince song, “The Arms of Orion”). One of my first Boy Scout badges was the Astronomy Merit Badge.
So, I stood there, garage door open, waiting for me to return to the day, but instead I gazed up at the stars, at Orion. Strong and consistent. The crickets added the soundtrack to the moment, the air cool, and my heart slowly letting go of my troubles.
I am here. For however long Fate decides. For sure there is so much to be worried about, so much fear and frustrations. But I am here, like Orion. Like all the stars, shining, beautiful because of the darkness.
This morning was a reminder of one of the aspects of life I’ve learned. It started as one of those mornings. Trash and recycling need to be put out on the curb. Lunches needed to be made. Diapers to daycare. Movies to return. My oldest son overslept. My youngest daughter didn’t want to be put down. It was time for me to start my commute and I was nowhere close to pouring my coffee into my travel mug.
I multi-task, carrying the last of the recycling, diapers under on arm, movies clutched in a few fingers to put in my wife’s car. Both garage doors opening is an appropriate sound track to the morning, arrrrgrarrrarrr, clunk-clunk.
It is about 6:20 in the morning, dark, and my breath can be seen as the cold tickles my forearms. It takes three trips to get the trash and recycling to the curb. The constellation Orion is above the southern horizon. Mars is shining bright toward the east. Beautiful. I take a few minutes to star gaze (I don’t know why, but stargazing is special for me).
In those few minutes the stars reminded me that life is beautiful. No matter what is going on in life, “nothing dims these stars.” I know that life can be hard. I know even in good times there can be a grimy feeling to life. Diamonds can collect filth on them. But the shine is still there; the diamond will sparkle (like a star) with a little cleaning.
Minutes later as I was getting into my car, my sons came out to get into the minivan. “Did you guys see the stars?” I asked. We go out to the drive way and we stargaze together for a minute. For a moment life hits me, in a single moment I feel the beauty of life so true that it almost crushes my heart. There I stood with my two sons, in front of our new home, on the driveway that we play basketball. Life can be hard. I know this. There is pain and disappointment, tragedy that can also crush a heart.
It takes work, it takes time, but no matter how filthy a diamond becomes, it still has its shine. “Nothing dims these stars.”
“Dad, there is a new Clone Wars on tonight!” Both boys head to the minivan chatting excitedly about the show tonight. I smile. Everyone has their own set of stars. What allows you to know that life is beautiful?
It is all Connected 