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These Little Lights
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Yesterday morning I drove my friend Soyinka to the Catholic Church in our Pittsburgh neighborhood so she could light a candle for her five-year-old goddaughter who was being prepped for heart surgery in California. A network of people across the country had been enlisted to pray in their own way for this little girl, even some who didn't know her personally. Having lit many candles on my  own daughter's behalf I appreciate that when faced with life threatening surgeries or illness, especially involving children, we recognize how fragile life is and how small we are. At times like these we seem more willing to reach out for the support of friends and for the help of forces greater than ourselves. Thanks to Skype, my friend was able to join the little girl and her family as they visited the zoo yesterday, a special treat before her upcoming stay in the hospital. Seeing her smiling face and hearing her giggles, we adults admired the child's ability to stay in the moment and enjoy her good health before undergoing what everyone hoped will be the last in a series of operations. Entering the small chapel, the scent and lights from the white candles in tall glass cylinders reminded me of all the candles my mother had us light in Catholic churches when I was a child. The candles, like many other things in modern life, have been supersized, and burn much longer than our small votive ones did then. When I was five years old, I thought each candle represented something Mother wanted, like healing for my several months old baby sister, Mary Jane, who was near death after her surgery. Looking around the anteroom I wondered about the people who lit the 40 or 50 candles flickering under the statues of Jesus and his mother Mary. What prayer requests do these candles represent? In addition to this little girl facing surgery, and my own family and friends, who or what other situations would I light a candle for? I thought of the people we'd met in just the last few days, each with their own special light, during events our InterPlay improvisational troupe had participated in:
- The 7th grader at the Sarah Heinz House who expressed worry for his family in what he called "this financial depression," and gratitude that "it's good we have this place."
- The women at the Bethlehem Haven homeless shelter we visited yesterday. Some appeared exhausted, resting their elbows on the table, holding their heads in their hands. Others responded enthusiastically as we meditated, moved, and sang together. One woman noted when we finished, "I feel less pain." The weather's turning cold. Is someone lighting candles for them?
- The hundred or so women and a few men we met at the Minority Health Conference, many of who risk vicarious trauma in their work with trauma survivors. After we had taught some InterPlay forms to help them let go of the stress of their work and the traumatic circumstances of their clients, one woman gave a graphic physical description of what she saw happening. "We went from this" she said while standing stiffly as a solder at attention, "to this" (as her body softened and her arms floated in the air).
- The Orff-Schulwerk music teachers from around the country, holding their national conference at the convention center. They blessed us by joining in with their hand instruments as we toured the Heinz History Center exhibits together. May our stories of the cultures that helped to found Pittsburgh and the many innovators who created the advances we all enjoy today, be as lighted candles for them as they use improvisational forms to teach music to children.
Sheila K. Collins © 2011
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Several weekend InterPlay trainings will be held in Pittsburgh in 2012
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January - The Secrets of Leading InterPlay
March - The InterPlay Way for Helping Professionals
April - InterPlay Life Practice Program
For details contact me at sheila@sheilakcollins.com or 817-706-4967
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Sheila K. Collins, PhD
Email Sheila: sheila@sheilakcollins.com
817-706-4967
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