A NAME BY ANY OTHER ROSE. . .

I had something completely different in mind for this week's blog, but you know how it goes. . .you get distracted by a side path and the next thing you know you're in a part of the woods that you didn't even know existed.

I accidently Googled my own name (trying to get to this blogspot;  see how slow I am when it comes to computers?) and the next thing I knew, I was finding other people with my name who sound pretty darned interesting.  There's a Margaret Swift in North Dakota who was a "farm wife who picked up a brush" and now creates lovely paintings of nature scenes;  another who choreographs Texas line dances, which you can watch on you.tube, and a G.P. in British Columbia.  The one I found the most fascinating and actually spent more than two minutes reading about is a Margaret (Welles) Swift who was a survivor of the Titanic!  Wow!  As one who's rather interested in the history of the Titanic, has seen the movie (which I still think was way too long), and more recently, been bewitched watching Downton Abbey, I find it quirky and exciting that someone with MY name lived through that ordeal. It's known that she was a first class passenger and was rescued on boat #8 along with two female companions;  the male who was part of their party went down with the ship.  Talk about survivor's guilt;  how do you accept the fact that you got to live and lots of others didn't simply because you were female and could afford a first class ticket?  Hmmm.

That Margaret Swift was 46 years old at the time, and lived to be 82, so she  clearly still had a lot of living to do.

It got me thinking:  how many of the survivors came back feeling that they were spared for a purpose?  Those were times in which the general thought was that God controlled everything and had a big old masterplan, so did (most) people think that those who died were "called" because they were done with their Earthly Travails, and those still here still had things to do? Did it give them a sort of kick in the pants to not take tomorrow for granted but to get on with whatever it was with which they wanted to get on?

I'm not a big fan of the Divine Masterplan idea;  I was raised with it, but it never made sense to me.  My current idea, which keeps evolving, is that we are all evolving -- even Divine Love, or Source, or Infinite Joy, or whatever I call that-which-I-have-difficulty-calling-God-because-of-too-many-yucky-definitions-which-people-have-killed-and-died-for-because-they-thought-they-knew-the definition-and-were-right-and-everyone-else-was-wrong, on any given day.  I believe that Creation with a capital C didn't just happen a long time ago;  it's happening NOW, every nanosecond of every day, and the biggest miracle of our lives,  lives which are loaded with miracles, heavy with them, full to the brim, is that we get to participate in that Creation with a capital C.  In fact, we have no choice:  we are doing it every nanosecond whether we realize it or not.

from spacetoday.org

Isn't this exciting?  We're helping write the script as the play's being acted out.  In some way, big or small, we are helping decide the lighting, the sound, the props, and at any given moment, whether it's a comedy or tragedy or something completely new.

This is my current belief, and I believe it with my whole heart, while trying to remain open to new wisdom as it bops me on the head or tugs at my heart.  I really really believe this.  I am a co-creator.  What I do and say and how I be matters.

So why do I still waste so much time?  Why aren't I more focused and committed and purposeful?
OK, I could waste more time beating myself up for often being lazy, distracted, and confusing what I feel I'm meant to be doing with what I feel other's expect me to do.  But no.

Right now I'm pausing to think about what that other Margaret Swift might have felt in the remaining 36 years of her life.  Maybe that life is mysterious and you just never know when a bizarre set of circumstances might sink an unsinkable ship and dump you into icy waters. And that if you are one of the blessed who get back home again, you might find it harder to take people and resources and circumstances for granted. I don't know that life would take on more meaning, exactly, but it certainly would take on more value.


So I ask myself, how do I maintain that sense of blessed purpose without needing a titanic event?  For now, I'm going to evoke the spirit of this earlier Margaret Swift, print out her picture, and have her greet me in my little meditation spot each morning.  Let's see how that works. ( What do you find helpful?)

P.S.  This is the first time I've successfully uploaded pictures (with a great deal of help from my sainted daughter) so I now consider myself trainable.  Hurrah!