Angels, Reindeer, Healing

A few years ago, my brother-in-law died; he was a young man. Taken in a car accident, he left behind his wife, who was pregnant. My son was 10 back then, and when he was told of his young uncle's passing by his dad, he began crying and ran down the stairs toward me. 

"I want to see the "Wings of Desire,” he cried out loud. 

I have seen that film so many times. Maybe he had seen it with me, attracted by a sound, an image, when crossing the living room. I, myself, had seen the "Wings of Desire" as a 13-year-old, and something indelible had awakened in my being.  I could not say what it was, but I could feel it, a presence, a feeling of an intimate presence, of someone guiding, loving. The trust that there was more to this world than what we were told about it, by history, culture. 

A loving (human) culture

Love. That "unmoving", still, force, the cause and end of everything, that Eliot talks about.

"Love is itself unmoving, Only the cause and end of movement,"

How could we bring more of that to the current culture, to the current human civilization? How could we deepen love in our communities?

Isn't love,  the deepest force driving us all, and our world ? Sometimes is hard to believe, looking at the planet's tough history and the challenges ahead.

"History as the slaughter-bench" writes Hegel, 

But is it, really, a slaughter-bench?  What about the history of the arts, of music, of healing ?



"Years ago, anthropologist Margaret Mead was asked by a student what she considered to be the first sign of civilization in a culture. The student expected Mead to talk about fishhooks or clay pots or grinding stones. 
But no. Mead said that the first sign of civilization in an ancient culture was a femur (thighbone) that had been broken and then healed. Mead explained that in the animal kingdom, if you break your leg, you die. You cannot run from danger, get to the river for a drink or hunt for food. You are meat for prowling beasts. No animal survives a broken leg long enough for the bone to heal.


A broken femur that has healed is evidence that someone has taken time to stay with the one who fell, has bound up the wound, has carried the animal to safety and has tended that friend from nature, through recovery. Helping another being, through difficulty is where civilization starts."

Perhaps this is not a true story about Margaret Mead, and perhaps I changed it, and yet, it evokes, I truly believe, a truth. That when we move beyond self-interest and care for something beyond ourselves, for example, the community, love is deepened.

A caring civilisation?

A caring civilisation.

A loving earth.

Can we dare to care ? To really care? To open our arms and offer our will for the sake of the will of others, perhaps even quite different then ourselves? Others have done so for us. Can we do that to each other? Without asking anything in return?

It is difficult but possible.

"What if we stop worrying about time? Or about what we do not have? It may never be given to you, actually!" says Orland Bishop.

Why not then, emphasizing being here? Being truly here!
When we say and mean it "I am here" we enter the space of the heart, the space of love, of presence.

"Quick now, here, now, always" says Eliot.

Last time I saw Sam, he had brought something big. A big, big drawing folded in squares. The little group gathered around Sam, as he unfolded carefully his large drawing: In front of us, a big angel was taking shape. He had strong wings and loving eyes.

"This one is a cherubim" Sam told us. We exchanged affectionate smiles, and parted our way.

With love