9 January 2016

Sometimes I think there are only two instructions we need to follow to develop and deepen our spiritual life: slow down and let go. ~Oriah Mountain Dreamer, The Dance: Moving to the Rhythms of Your True Self

When I let my awareness skip free of the prescribed list I’ve set it to, it often winds up meandering right into the mystery and magic of life that is persistently present, welcoming and supportive.

Mary Oliver’s ‘dip into the immeasurable’ links me to a sense of spaciousness that nourishes and restores me on a deep level.

This is a place where I can be burst open by the grandeur that I can entirely overlook during the daily bustle.  A place where I can be split apart by wonder for the immense and complex and amazing cosmos that I am a small, unique part of.  A place where, when I truly sink in, it often feels like there is nothing really to do.

That last part is hard for me to explain, even to myself.  I’m pretty much a product- and results- oriented person.  So I won’t even try to make it make sense.  Yet, maybe you’ve felt it, too—a complete acceptance of this moment, this world, as it is.  A calm reassurance for no good reason.  A sifting down into an inexplicable respite.

Here, there is a gentle quality to the big questions that float into my mind.  What if I effort less?  What if I am enough just as I am?  What if I trusted more?  What if I remembered that everything comes down to loving?

The size of these questions, even the fact that I don’t have yes/no, black/white answers doesn’t faze me in this wide open landscape.  Maybe answers aren’t exactly the point.  It’s the questions themselves that seem vital, that encourage me to examine the canvas of my living, the colors on my palette and to experiment with blending new hues, letting new shapes emerge.

Lingering here, I experience the importance of fostering different tempos in my life.  Changing my pace, meandering off the path connects me to a wisdom that seems to come from deep within and far beyond all at once.

For every thing, there is a season.  Turn, turn, turn….