Ex-voto

I've become obsessed lately with the Mexican ex-voto – a little painting to acknowledge and commemorate a miracle, and left on a church altar as a kind of public testimonial and thank-you note to God.

The one above was painted in the 1800s by a man who was saved after having fallen down a well late at night (click here for more photos and information about the art form). I can hardly look at it without crying. Imagine falling into a well at 11 o'clock at night! First of all, you would no doubt be hurting from the fall, not to mention very wet. Possibly it would be tight and hard to breathe, and certainly it would be dark. The text doesn't say how long he was down there or how he came to be rescued, but I can imagine being in that dark, wet, possibly cold pit and being so afraid – Am I injured? How badly? Does anyone even know I'm down here? What if I never get out of here?! And then – you DO get out of there. Yeah, the thought of it brings me to tears.

I don't like to talk about this but I'll admit that the reason it's so emotional for me is because when I was in the worst parts of my depression, I felt like I'd fallen down a well. I'd fallen deep into the dark and I couldn't get out. I felt like I was going to die in there. And then, I didn't. A lot of people came together in big and small ways to help lift me up and out of that time in my life, and I am grateful. That time now seems like just a disturbing dream that's faded, but whenever I see other people suffering it all comes right back up again. Not in a bad way. In a grateful way. I got out. It makes me want to reach a hand out, maybe even descend a little into their darkness for awhile if that's what it takes to help.

Right now I know a couple of people who are in their own dark nights of the soul and I've been feeling kind of at a loss as to what to do, what to say. For me, the best help of all was just the presence of people who loved me – knowing that they knew what was going on with me, and that I didn't have to pretend with them that everything was okay when it really wasn't. But the people I know are not physically close to me right now. So I'm being challenged to learn some new ways to connect.

Today I'm thinking about gratitude and how to share the blessings I've received, especially the blessing of equanimity. It's the opposite of how I felt when I was in that well, and I feel really humble claiming it, because it's still so tenuous for me sometimes and I don't want to jinx myself with over-confidence. But it is something I've practiced and worked hard for, and so I guess it's okay to acknowledge that sometimes, I do seem to achieve a balanced, peaceful mind. Maybe the best way to share that is just to let people see what's going on with me now, so they can know it is possible to get better.

Anyway! I love these little paintings. In a way, I suppose some of the writing I do here is a kind of ex-voto. A public thanks for everyday miracles, or not so everyday miracles. It might be fun to do some actual paintings of my miracles, too. Like this morning, I arrived at work with more stuff than I thought I could carry into my office in one trip, and because I wasn't early I assumed all the good parking spots would be taken and I would have to drag all that stuff all the way around the building and to the end of the parking lot not once but twice – and then when I pulled into the lot, it just happened that the very best parking spot in the entire block was sitting there empty, and I pulled into it. And then as I was struggling with my load of stuff, someone showed up and unloaded a bit of it for me, and held the door.

P.S. I always feel so self-conscious when I cough up these sermonly posts ... Sometimes I just can't help it, though! The spirit moves me, or something. Anyway, one more thing: I found out this morning that my sweet but annoying co-worker is getting fired today. It's weird sitting next to her all day knowing that, and I'm finding I kind of resent my boss for involving me (all of us, really) in the decision. I don't want to be here when it happens.