As I was leaving my mother's house tonight after a grueling day of babysitting my nephews, and believe me, grueling is a gentle way of putting it, I happened to glance at her calendar long enough to read that this is the Blessing Moon.
It got me to thinking on my long drive home. Okay, it's like 20 minutes and most of it straight up I-90, but that's under construction so it feels long. But I'm thinking, Blessing Moon.
Is that like from White Christmas when Bing Crosby is singing to his lovely love interest, "When I'm worried and I can't sleep, I count my blessings instead of sheep, and I fall asleep counting my blessings." If you couldn't hear the music in that, go rent it, because everyone needs a little White Christmas in July or any other month for that matter.
So are we supposed to count our Blessings? Or maybe we're supposed to bless things.
That's the problem, like love or even Love, capital L and all, blessing can be a noun or a verb. It can be the act of gifting well wishes, random acts of kindness done or received, a prayer for a friend in need, something fairies do to babies according to all my favorite bedtime stories, or even swearing- a lot.
I'm going to rule out swearing. I have never particularily attributed potty-mouth to the man on the moon, and I most certainly don't think that the intent is to swear like a sailor, although my youngest nephew did whisper a few invectives tonight which just made me giggle on the inside while feigning shock.
So that again brings me back to this fuzzy verb v noun dilemma. Am I supposed to be thankful for blessings received or actively seek to bless others?
Surely by now, seeing as you're probably a little smarter than me, you see where this is going.
It's both.
Blessing is like love. Vital and alive. Organic. You bless me, I am greatful and joyful and through recieving blessings my capacity to give is broadened because I want to share that joy. Perhaps I find a way to bless you back, perhaps I bless someone else, but blessing has a way to grow like a living thing. Just as if I love you it brightens your spirit and makes you want to spread the love, blessing is organic.
Blessing is like a mother's milk and the more it is used, the greater the stores. Blessing isn't a zero sum gain. Like the mother nursing her baby, which is in itself blessing both given and gotten, the more the baby drinks, the more there will be for it to drink. Her breasts do not dry up for over suckling but rather refill according to their usage. Blessing is like that. Each time you are blessed or bless someone, there is a greater amount of blessing to be had. Blessing is not a commodity that can be used up, leaving you bereft of blessings. Blessing is not a glass filled halfway that for each drop lost or gained, that much air is lost or gained. Blessing is the water, and then the air, and the cup and the table it sits on and each awareness of blessing expands it even further. Just as having a second child doesn't lessen the amount of love you can feel for your first because your ability to love grows and expands through its use, so does blessing.
So yes, count your blessings. Remember each and every one of them. Enumerate them like a quiet prayer. It doesn't have to be private if you're bolder than I am, but count them. I am, and this day I have many. Count them. Acknowledge them and their power to transform you into someone a little closer to the person you want to be. Conut them, and then spread them.
Be both bless-ed and bless-or.
Bright Blessings on you and yours this night.
1 comment:
I hate that spoil the baby stuff. I used to hear that a lot when E was young. I was always confused about how meeting the needs of my child was spoiling her. People would say that a lot about wearing her- that she would get spoiled. Oh and about co-sleeping too. Oh well- then let her be spioled with love. Nurse away momma- every drop is goodness.
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