And you have a choice. Re-shuffle the mental deck for the pieces to make sense? Or take the day one piece at a time? To be grateful for small victories and little gifts. This is not easy when you are tired, under the weather, and the day is off-script. But without gratitude, regret will rob me of the moment every time.

I spent several hours in the Phoenix airport, already flooded with travelers after a morning with several dozen cancelled and delayed flights from morning fog. Emotions get frayed, patience gets short and language gets colorful.  

My day started good. We wrapped up a retreat weekend at the CASA (Franciscan Renewal Center) in Scottsdale. The subject for the retreat: Intentional Conversations about Intimacy and Relationships.  

I told them the story about a certain African tribe. When a woman in that tribe knows she is pregnant, she goes out into the wilderness to pray and listen until she hears the song of the child she bears. This tribe recognizes that every soul has its own vibration, expressing its unique flavor and purpose. Then the mother to be teaches the song to the other members of the tribe. 

The tribe sings the song to the child at birth.

They sing when the child becomes an adolescent, when the adult is married, and at the time of parting and death.

But there is one other occasion when the villagers sing this song. If at any time during his (or her) life, the person causes suffering to another member of the tribe, they gather in a circle and set him in the center. They sing the song, to remind him not of the wrong done, but of his own beauty and potential. When a child loses the way, it is love and not punishment that brings the lost one home.

I cannot tell you your song. But I can tell you this: you have one.
Count on it.
And if you sit still, you may hear it.  

It is the song that reminds us we are beautiful, when we feel ugly.
It is the song that tells us we are whole, when we feel broken.
It is the song that gives us the power to dance, even when we feel shattered. 

I told them about a woman who came to me for advice--regarding a "relationship issue."  I asked her, "Tell me; what did you do this week that was just for you? What did you do that was nourishing, reviving, replenishing, reaffirming?"  (When do you hear your song?)  Her puzzled look was her answer.   

Because here's the deal: In order to be intimate, you need a self. 

When I am close, I know you; when I am intimate, I know myself.

When I am close, I know you in my presence; when I am intimate, I know myself in your presence.  In other words, I don't need to walk into the relationship heavily defended... needing to impress or prove or fix or be rescued.  I can be present. And I can receive gifts that are given.