Flippin’ it. If it’s not the secret to life, then it’s got to be right up there among the top ten. Flippin’ it. I don’t mean burgers, flapjacks, coins or houses. I mean making lemonade out of those lemons you ended up with instead of the cherries you wanted. I’m talking about the ability to ferret out that ball-busting, buried blessing in disguise. You’ve heard this story before.
It’s the story of the 39 year old mother of two, Michele, diagnosed with pancreatic cancer whose stomach bloats up big from time to time depending on what she eats. When it happens, together with the searing pain that comes with it, Michele wraps her arms around her big swollen belly and fills her head with thoughts of a time when she was big with her babies. She holds that tummy lovingly the way pregnant women do, and remembers the happiness of it. Damn if she doesn’t walk right through the pain into contentment. Now that’s flippin’ it.
Flippin’ it is Father Michael Doyle who was vanquished to a parish in Camden, New Jersey 40 years ago for his outspoken opposition to the Vietnam War. After 40 years fighting for the forgotten ones in America’s poorest city, Father Doyle can claim no celestial miracle, nor even the slightest happy ending. He and his congregation still live among the piles of decay, the addicts, the prostitutes, the murders. In fact, conditions are even worse than they were 40 years ago thanks to the dumping that was legislated by the surrounding communities. They dumped everything they didn’t want – sewage, trash, scrap and a prison right there amongst the residents of South Camden.
Father Doyle’s words, 40 years worth of them, chronicle this quixote journey – upsetting and uplifting, agonizing and inspiring. Forty years of his monthly letters to parishioners bear witness to the human crime of indifference, and have earned him the title “poet of poverty.” The book in which these painfully beautiful letters reside is entitled. It’s a Terrible Day. Thanks Be To God. It says it all about flippin’ it, don’t you think?
Of course, victimhood is easier. Everyone knows a good tearjerker makes for a more compelling story, a real crowd pleaser. Flippin’ it doesn’t mean, of course, that we can ignore the wrongs, the empty places, the undeveloped states of being*. It’s just that once we see them, well then, it’s up to us to push right through them to the principle within, the higher good just itching to come out. Flippin’ it is a choice.
Sure, you say. What a Pollyanna! O.K, maybe. But even if I am, what’s there to lose? Did she ever look unhappy to you?
###
* Raymond Holliwell, The Law of Compensation.
Sixties Chick 