It's a ordinary summer morning here, and another scorching day is crackling in the wings. I'm up early and standing on the deck with a mug of dark roast. Beau and I feast our eyes on the sun coming up through the heat haze, the red and purple tomatoes ripening on the vine in our veggie patch. We watch murmurations of starlings cavorting in the garden, the rhythmic swaying in the cedar hedge that betrays the coy presences of the village squirrels. Typical early August vignettes and happenings.
If this day has a shape, that shape is still to reveal itself, and in the interim, the luminous heat has me feeling nebulous and woolly of intellect (if I can be said to possess any intellect at all), a tad acerbic and even downright crotchety. Questions, questions, questions..... How does one tune out the slippery peevish voice that asks the same old questions day after day, silence the inner hag who presents them, over and over again? She grumbles and thinks longingly of cool fall mornings.
Far from my buzzing beaver pond and its native water lilies, I pick up my tattered copy of John Daido Loori's beautiful "Zen of Creativity" and Joanna Macy's eloquent "World as Lover, World as Self" and read for a while. I resolve not to ignore the questions buzzing around in my sconce or shun the old harpy asking them, but to acknowledge them both and just sit here in silence, breathing in and out for a while. I remember a few words from Joanna Macy, and they are a powerful reminder of what these days, and fact all days are about or should be about.
"We have received an inestimable gift. To be alive in this beautiful, self-organizing universe—to participate in the dance of life with senses to perceive it, lungs that breathe it, organs that draw nourishment from it—is a wonder beyond words. And it is, moreover, an extraordinary privilege to be accorded a human life, with this self-reflexive consciousness which brings awareness of our own actions and the ability to make choices. It lets us choose to take part in the healing of our world."
Reading the words is one thing - remembering them and putting them into practice is something else again. This old hen needs reminding, and she needs it often.
2 comments:
Have a happy and fruitful Friday. I feel very grateful for a confused elder who thought yesterday was Friday (after waking up and doing Thurs. chores, somehow by afternoon it felt like Friday!) So this is second Friday for me!
I rely upon you for my reminding. So far, so good. Thanks.
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