imperfect offerings

one might not bicycle every day, but one can be every day. this one is about being.

Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in.

this stanza has been running through my head these past few days. I was first introduced to it at Liz Johnson's memorial service 15 months ago, when her sister read these words of Leonard Cohen's. perhaps they've been front and center because last night was a fundraiser for the company Chris Johnson directs, the company with which Liz was traveling when her life was so abruptly ended.
regardless, these words have been floating within me, and they jumped up, shouted, and rung vibrantly when two days ago I read the seven social sins once proclaimed as how not to be by mahatma gandhi:

wealth without work

pleasure without conscience

science without humanity

knowledge without character

politics without principle

commerce without morality

worship without sacrifice

bells rang and clattered and rejoiced when I read this, imperfect bells, all. we are all made with small cracks and slight imperfections, but we are also all given the ability to stretch beyond what we believe to be our limits. to live by simple truths, and to recognize the pulling power of guidance informed by wisdom, not ego. to seek and find those subtle and often invisible maps that delineate our paths, and to accept the challenge to be who we are meant to be.

what we are asked to do, more than any other thing, is to remove our bushel baskets and veils and masks and let our inner light flow forth and out and beyond. to listen to our inner truths and dig down deep within our souls to find the answers we seek. to proceed with courage and dignity and help others release their own versions of the same.

to ring our bells, to let light shine, to be blissfully imperfect and welcome the humility that comes with that realization.

to find our own way, guided by that crooked and sometimes fragile but always present light that slips in through our cracks.

I send much love with my friends who are boarding a plane tomorrow that will begin their journeys to nepal, to the visionary souls at Choice Humanitarian, and to Liz, who is watching over us all, smiling and gently, gently, prodding.