What is a blessing? I sometimes write blessings for others, but when I think about it, what authority do I have to do so? I first wrote a blessing for a dear friend's 65th birthday. I stood up at the tea and read it aloud. I wrote a blessing for my older daughter's second wedding, and then for my younger daughter's recent wedding. I write them from the heart, as I do when writing poetry. I wish them well. I acknowledge their unique qualities and honor them.
But the authority thing is disturbing. Do I have the right? Do I know what I'm doing enough to undertake a blessing? Is it appreciated?
I know I'm always grateful for a blessing from a teacher. I don't believe a friend has ever blessed me. And I'm not a teacher. If a blessing is wishing someone well, then it seems no authority is needed if the intention is generous. And I have done these last two blessings to a younger generation, from the point of view of long and fruitful life. Am I pretending to be an elder?
I know I've been careful crafting the blessings. I write a draft and go over it many times over several months. I watch what I say. I aim for no harming, only good wishes.
But it is strange, when I think about it, that I had the nerve to desire to do this. Am I trying to hog the limelight? Is ego in the way? Something to think about. Delusions of grandeur and all that.
Yet truthfully, I wish I'd started this tradition earlier, with my older two kids' weddings. With them, I sang a song at the rehearsal dinners. Now I've added the blessing tradition. It happened so subtly I hardly noticed myself. And here I am, practically blessing the animals in the fields. I know I'm goofy, but oh, dear. This takes the cake!
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