Benjamin Alexander was born at 12:40 pm, Pacific Time, in San Francisco, with Mama Robin pushing for a record mere 30 minutes. This picture of the proud and tired Papa James with a totally zonked out Benjamin was taken about 3 hours later. Apparently B-dude got a bath, a bit of sunbathing under the heat lamp, and then figured he'd had enough of the wide world and promptly konked out. He didn't wake the whole time we Heather and I were there.As with all great events, it had an utter commonness to it. But there are two kinds of the mundane, the one where what you are relating to is felt as an object denuded of the sacred, and the one where your experience is so deeply saturated with the sacred that there's just a big sense of connection. All the hype about birth and life and etc., well, being there with James and Robin and
B-dude and Rainie and Heather and Carrie and the hospital staff, it seemed so obvious and so wonderfully un-cut off from life. Like, oh, here life has done it's thing again, without effort, without specialness (in that first sense of the mundane), with an unostentatious depth.And for me, having know James for so long and through so many phases and changes, that depth had a personal dimension that felt, again, not special, but connective. In seeing him in all these changes, and knowing many more will come, there was a sense of communion with that which was flowing through him and us and the whole scene. Quite beautiful in its commonness.
My prayers and deep best wishes go out to one of the planet's newer occupants. May all his challenges give him soil to grow in, may he learn the value of giving, may he understand his lack of specialness in a way that brings deep joy and security.
