Pride

 This airplane hangar has been standing since the 1920s. It has been beaten up – windows broken, paint faded, beams rusted. Charles Lindbergh, Amelia Earhart, and Howard Hughes all stood in this building – each of them glamorously tragic figures.  

As we age, we too have faced disillusionment and shattered facades. Our bones are a bit rusty, but still we stand with our war wounds, stronger and more beautiful -- not in spite of, but because of what we have learned. We have understood the incalculable gifts that come from being uniquely and unwaveringly ourselves. The full-out living of our lives has opened us up to more love, more understanding, more compassion, more truth telling. As we stand in the sun, it may bring our dings and broken parts into sharp relief, but the bones, the core of who we are remains the same, and we realize how silly it was to ever have thought we had to be different than who we really are. When we have the courage to be exactly who we are, we give everyone else the freedom to do the same. In the Gnostic Gospels, by Elaine Pagels, the Gospel of St. Thomas says, “If you bring forth what is within you, what you bring forth will save you. If you do not bring forth what is within you, what you do not bring forth will destroy you.”

Pride still stands. To me, it is beautiful. The wear and tear make it even more beautiful in my eyes than if I had seen it in its grandiose heyday, occupied by the celebrated, haunted pilots who give it such gravitas today.

We are forever the truth of who we are. Pride stands tall. So do we. But even better, we are wiser and stronger in our hearts. We are fully ourselves. And we are still dancing.