How did you feel when (if) you saw those miners resurfaced from being buried alive?
I rarely even turn on my TV and happened to when the 1st miner was being brought up. It felt like synchronicity for me. I had not even been aware of this disaster. And as TV will do, I was mesmorized watching.
I quickly tried to ascertain what all had originally happened and what was happening now. I could not believe how long they had been down there and all of the so-called little miracles that had to have happened in order for all of them to be alive now.
We weep for the reunion – a man and his young son, a wife having waited months in grief and fear finally seeing her husband. And I wonder…what am I really crying about? Of course I feel the emotion and relief for them. But, there is something else; I’m sure of it.
I felt as if somehow each miner, surfacing from that dark, confiing mine, carried me with him. How something inside of me, trapped too long in the cramped dark, rose into the air.
For me, it’s like watching the olympics. We are actually rooting for our own brilliance and excellence – our human spirit and strength and beauty.
Watching the rescue, there is another rescue we dare to hope for and it is not in another country where we don’t speak the language. No, it’s closer to home – that self we’ve had a hand in burying.
We’re praying for a breathing tube to survive. And a tunnel to shine a light on the bleak path we keep retreading.
And maybe a crowd’s not huddled near, waiting for our liberation. But no matter. The time has come. Our moment’s here.
