I hope you’re enjoying the fullness of summer – the fullness of light, warmth, flowers, sunsets over the water, and sweet watermelon in your belly.
A few years ago a friend turned me on to the Benedictine Nun and prolific writer Joan Chittister. Author of over 60 books and now in her 80s, she continues to travel the world giving lectures on women’s equality in the Catholic Church, the need for love and care of the environment, and much more.
In her book titled Grace Filled Moments, she re-tells one of her favorite stories:
“Tommy, the three year old, seemed agitated. He insisted on being alone with his infant brother who had now come into the family. He was so intent on it that the parents began to question his behavior.
“Was it love or was it jealousy? Would he hurt the baby if he were left alone with him? So they set up a baby monitor by the crib and left the room to watch for signs of distress.
“Sure enough, as soon as he was alone with the baby, Tommy went straight to the crib, shook the baby awake and said, “Eddie, I’m your big brother Tommy. I want you to tell me what God looks like. You know because you just came from there, but I’m three now and I’m beginning to forget….”
I love this story, as it so speaks to the knowing within us. We may forgot as adults, but it’s always there, that knowing, even if we’re not conscious of it.
That’s what drives us to the seekers path – to come back to that knowing.
My Buddhist teacher, Matthew Flickstein, used to often say, “You are discovering who you are not, but thought yourself to be.”
Each time we meditate, or sit by a creek and watch the butterflies float from leaf to leaf, we slowly peel away the veil of illusion one moment at a time, and are reminded of The Great Love we came from, and still are.
Carl Jung, a Swiss psychologist and psychoanalyst, wrote “Life is a luminous pause between two great mysteries, which themselves are one.”
I feel like I could contemplate this profound quote my entire life and not exhaust its meaning.
Each day gives us the opportunity to remember the luminous nature of God – the breeze that blows the dandelion seeds, a hug from a child or dear friend, the flock of birds flying in V formation across the sky…
Sister Joan’s story reiterates how much children are, in so many ways, a close link to remembering our Divinity and connection to it (as is nature).
Two and half years ago I was visiting a dear friend in Los Angeles. It happened to be the same week she was going to be artificially inseminated, or as she likes to call it, “the turkey baster method.”
She had been wanting a child and not met the right partner, so decided to do it on her own.
Myself and another friend of hers sat with her in the clinic right after, saying prayers, telling stories, and reading from sacred texts. It was a special time together, honoring the gift of friendship, God’s presence, and modern medicine.
We crossed our fingers.
Nine months later, she was born.
A miracle coming from the Great Mystery.
This is one of my favorite recent pictures of her, reminding me of the knowing I was born with too – the purity of heart, the innocence and joy, and the love.
May she remind you of that inside of you as well.
Another dear friend has a six-year-old son. His mom told me a couple weeks ago when the two of them sat down at the table in the middle of the garden to eat breakfast, he said before digging in, “Mom, wait! I want to feel the beauty of the garden in my body.”
Bless his heart, he hasn’t forgotten, and is a reminder for us all.
I’m sensing my wrists will be ready to dive back into the story of my two year cocoon with Part Ten coming in middle to late August, but they will have the final say in that :-). I’ll write again in a couple of weeks either way.
Blessings and love to you.
Categories: Gratitude, Health & Happiness, Heart Centered Living, Inner Wisdom & Intuition