Wednesday, March 2, 2011

The Infinity Of Now

"From time to time, to remind ourselves to relax, to be peaceful, we may wish to set aside some time for a retreat, a day of mindfulness, when we walk slowly, smile, drink tea with a friend, and enjoy being together as if we are the happiest people on Earth."
~Thich Nhat Hanh




Sometimes we don't have a whole day. Do we have an hour? Thirty minutes? Just a moment to find the center? To recenter, to God center?

I was in the middle of giving out orders this morning, in the midst of frenzy, when Ben asked from the other room:
"Mom, Can I come on your walk with you today?"
An Invitation I can't resist.
"Yes! I would love that," I responded, trying not to sound over eager.



We set out, air quivering with Spring, to search for that which satisfies body and soul: the depth of texture, welling and gushing from impenetrable earth chasm.

We are both quiet, stilled by the beauty, and  fired by the hunt. Going our separate ways there is unity of intent, a common purpose that urges us down trails and through woods deep.

We are not disillusioned.


















Light scintillates and dazzles in radiance overflowing.


One droplet, the womb of illumined essence- the energy, the sensuality of creation contained in a single sphere of water, slips to earth.






And we, so honored to be witnesses to the testimony of his grandeur, find solace in the symmetry and simplicity of ferns patterned amongst leaves and limbs in outspread majesty.





to give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; that they might be called trees of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, that He might be glorified.  Isaiah 61:3




Open spaces breathe and we respire life.




The other day, in a check-out line at the grocery store, a young woman rang up the items and hurriedly put them into bags. But she was slow. Painfully slow. She was flustered and busy, but inefficient. I felt so badly for her. She was keenly aware of her ineffectiveness. I told her not to hurry, that it was fine. She replied, "You're not hurrying me. I'm hurrying myself." I prayed for her. I really did.

I thought "That's me . In a rush but slow all at once. And this is what it looks like."


Could it be that our hurrying grieves God? Is that why he wants us to embrace the present moment, like that water droplet embraces the light, so that we can truly experience Him?

It is not possible to love God in a hurry. God's love is manifested in the gentle unfolding of each moment that quells and stills, never hurries, never in a rush.



 
"Be still and know that I am God." (Psalm 46:10)

 


Nature never hurries, but her timing is perfection- the supreme orchestration. We can learn from her gentle and effective ways. We must slow ourselves, quiet our hearts and minds to make room for God.

"Every moment is crammed with infinite riches which are given us according to the extent of our faith and love." ~ Jean Pierre De Caussade