Percolating Grace

In a dream I felt "his" head nestle over my heart in answer to my question. He showed me how I would know the difference, the real deal. My heart came alive and continued to radiate this love well into my waking hours.
This was the way I began this potent day.

My daughter would graduate among people I found myself more intrinsically connected to than I had imagined. I braced myself for the stagnant invocations that never would come. The word that dripped off of their tongues was grace, uttered over and again. I felt myself trembling with happy/sad anticipation ushered in by the bagpipes leading faculty and students into the hall.

I felt the power of gratitude for education and for the impact of contrasting images presented by the ambassador from Liberia. I noticed that the students were calling us higher, not merely the reverse. I felt the wisdom of the bright being I know as my daughter and then can never really fully know. She is a mystery to me. I experience that in the deepest most respectful manner. Tears arise, then dissolve back inside. There is too much happiness for them to spill over and too much bitter-sweetness for them to disappear completely.

This ending is a new beginning and it marks the culmination of dreams; my own, my daughter's and those of many who have come before us as well as those on staff now. Some of these have conflicting agendas and struggle to preserve their own vision. I am grateful for all of these. It is this friction that creates the resonance of the heart-stirring music of life. I salute all of the above and delight in our differences as well as our kaleidoscope, ever changing tapestry as we weave ourselves into the loom of life.