The quiet of a soul

The Lord God planted a garden in Eden, in the east, and placed there the man whom he had formed. Genesis 2:8.

In the midst of our beings is the small, still voice within us that convinces us of our worth and place in this Universe. At 9:30 a.m. (EST) Dec. 21, the nation fell silent for One Minute to honor the sweet spirits of 26 people who were  stopped mid journey, nay in the early days of their journey, by a young man who may never have had the capacity to hear his still, small voice. 

Once the minute had passed away, the throngs returned to the myriad of activities they feel compelled to complete in this turbulent sea journey called life.

But what about this man named, Adam? Buried underneath the diagnosis of mental illness or a brain disorder of the autism spectrum, or bad cultural influences of violent video games, or the traumatic environment of fighting parents, and, later, their divorce, or the ostracization of school mates for his social ineptness, or any number of random and unknown negative influences, lies Adam's soul. 

Like the original Abrahamic Adam, this modern Adam, perhaps, represents in an extreme way all of the decisions that make the world evil and dangerous for the rest of us and which, if we are honest, we ourselves choose in a milder way. And, like this original Adam, (Eve convinced me to eat the apple, who was convinced by the serpent) we look to other factors to give sense for decisions that have such far-reaching consequences.

Even though Adam and Eve argued their case of not guilty before the God who walked and held hands with them in the garden, the time of innocence was lost. Equally heartbroken, God, Adam, and Eve walked out of the garden never to look back.

But God returns to the Garden and tends to it. It's impossible to know when humanity will end its exile from the Garden, but it continues to be nurtured by God and regenerating new life. It was not left to be preserved as a shrine like the small bedrooms of the Newtown victims may be. The first growth has been replaced by new growth and the Garden keeps calling to us from the scent of its rosebushes or the crinkle of leaves as they fall to the ground or the silent fall of a snowflake the night before a Holy Day such as Christmas or Hanukkah. Our Souls, all Souls, yearn for the music of this God-created orchestra. 

We mask the pain from our loss of  access to the Garden by ignoring the barely perceptible call with the bustle of priorities we call Things to Do. We drown out the soft fluttering of butterfly wings with the loud roar of the chain saw. We ignore the silence of the snowfall with the powering up of the lap top. And, for certain, we drown out the cracking voice of the tortured with the loud outcry of the righteous who seek solutions at a material level but which can only be dispensed at a Holy Level. Fix the system we demand: Mental Health. Gun Control. Fiscal Cliff. Isn't the saving of one life worth the cost of the vitriolic words we fling at each other to preserve our point of view yet which adds another layer of insulation between Us and our Souls? 

We pat ourselves on the back for our optimism of the future and all we have invented to make this life less inconvenient. We'll struggle to fix the pathology of our hedonistic lives by resolving to cure that which ails by quiting: smoking, drinking, gambling, overeating, name calling, thinking negatively. Two weeks later, the resolutions will be like nails on a chalkboard and we will close that door which could lead us to the passageway of our Souls. But this closed door is sound proof and our ears are muffled from the squeaking nails that are the agitation of our innermost selves beseeching us to come closer.  The tunnel may be full of a high desert wind fraught with dirt and debris but it will blow us to depths where it promises to transform into a balmy breeze--if only we can endure the passage.

With a collective sigh we stop for One Minute to honor the Souls of 26 sprightly babies and weathered adults. But One Minute is but an eye blink and eternity away from the return to the Garden of Eden where all who dare to go may hold hands with God, including all of the Adams of His Creation.