A day spent waiting for God

LAST_UPDATED2 Written by DATE_FORMAT_LC2

A day

 

“Life” has dealt me an uncommonly wonderful opportunity lately - the chance to choose completely how I will live this thing called, 'today'.

I'm not unique, and I'm not 'blessed' – any more than anyone else is either of these.

And it's not a given to say that making choices to open up to life leads to instant clarity. I can attest to that based on recent experience. Matter of fact, without some attention your thought can become quite insidiously 'circular'.

Anyway, last night – actually it was around 3:00 a.m. this morning - I decided that today, Thursday, I would spend in a constant search for ... God .

All my thought, then, for this day is either about, or leading back to being about God, or Being, or Creation, or ...

So, as I'm writing this at the local bakery, that lady with the two toddlers sitting really close to me – that's God. Of course it is! And the distracting thoughts – they are God too. And the blind man passing by, with his white cane and pulling along his wheeled suitcase...so is he. And the really important guy on his cellphone...that's God, too. He's whole and complete just as he is. They all are. And so am I.

As I walked this morning, I decided that it would be 'for time', and not for power or for exercise. This being a day to spend with God, I elected to drink in the walk today. And what a satisfying draught it was!

All around me the light of life shone. It actually seems to sparkle. Each leaf the complete expression of Being, flowing with life. I was struck, particularly, by the ever-present green – especially the 'new growth' green at the ends of the branches. It was in the ivy, and in the trees, and in the grass and weeds. Always, always new; always emerging; always creating.

Even in the refuse along the way there was 'purpose'. Every particle of creation carries with it it's own truth of what it is, and what it isn't. “Learning the truth of what it is can lead you to wisdom. Looking for the truth of what it isn't can lead you to madness,” a Sufi poet said.

Along the way I saw a flowerbed. It was unkempt, but the lantana in it thrived in yellow and orange and pink. Then my eyes ran to the weeds.

All of a sudden, though, as if on queue, a beautiful butterfly danced over the tops of the flowers like an orange and black and white sparkler tracing through the whole scene.

If I hadn't been looking I would not have seen. I was looking, but at the weeds. It showed me life in all of it.

Walking along the street, I was walking a path. It was laid out by others, someone else's idea of where trail should be, that turned into a path, that turned into a street. (I'd chosen this particular path this day, but what is the trail that I choose, the path that I will leave?)

Aong the way dogs barked, cats regarded me suspiciously, people drove by with worry on their face and cellphones stuck to their ears.

And I saw big beautiful hardwood trees arched over the street and as far as the eye could reach. Ancient, compared to me, their tops swayed gently in the morning breeze as they have for ages. And I saw richness bristling from them, green and silver.

My eyes decided that this is God, too. And I tried to take in the whole tree, from the tips of the highest leaf in that early-growth green to the hearty, channeled trunk and where it disappeared into the earth. But why stop there, I wondered. The part reaching toward the sky was only part of the tree.  The part above ground likely wouldn't be possible without some elaborate means of providing foundation and a steady means of sustenance – and a considerable amount of sustenance for a life form weighing several tons.

I could see the tips of the top of the trees, and I could see where they entered the ground, but could I see underneath that?

As I looked under the dirt, under the concrete...to 'see' the roots my logical mind objected. That seemed natural. But I persisted and, at least in my imagination, I began to 'see' the foundations of these magnificent 'creatures' – massive, intricate and intertwined.

They breathe the same air. They share the same water and soil and nutrient. They shade one another, and strive to outgrow one another.

This man-made 'path' that I walk seems permanent and final. Yet, it is a minor hindrance to these trees and their growth, apparent from the sidewalk yielding to the root growth. These cracks in the pavement took time.  They are the result of much 'deliberation' by the tree, and effort over an extended period.  All during this deliberation, the tree did not deviate...it did not take the 'No' of concrete as a final answer. It pressed on, constantly renewing and strengthening itself in its push that way.

And in the end, the man-made, lifeless object cracked and yielded to the idea of life in the tree: something sturdy and permanent, representing the 'external' world, or what we see 'out there' in our existence giving way to the root - the living power of our thought, and our ability to change the 'out there' through determined application and persistence.

I took in a lot during this walk. And the day was gratifying and filled with all kinds of illumination.  I should also give some thought to what I am pouring out, and how that happens.

My roots are deep, too. And I can reach way, way up into the sky, too. And I can sway with the wind – bend with it, when the storm comes, then right myself in the peaceful morning. I can make my garden bloom, make my life a life of abundance, and dance through it like that brilliant colored sparkler tearing against a night sky.