Holiness comes wrapped in the ordinary. There are burning bushes
all around you. Every tree is full of angels. Hidden beauty is waiting
in every crumb.
Macrina Wiederkehr
Macrina Wiederkehr
Word of the Week: EVERYDAY
Each morning brings a new voyage, the destination always unknown. Our lives are packed full as vacation suitcases with the everyday, from which the chance for miracles, for wonders, always arises.
In some now-dim past as I began my first gratitude journal, I realized that "I'm still here" was a significant declaration, not some ho-hum, I've run out of things to say, default. It is not so much that peril just lurks, loiters, expecting our unwariness. It is more that the unforeseen, the unwelcome, finds us all. I celebrate surviving those encounters. Best not to take them at face value for frequently it is within them that we see the impossible manifest.
Whether I feel equal to the task or pitiful and outnumbered, life seems to expect me to show up every day. I suspect one of the attractions I feel for the color red is its boldness. Red does not cower or apologize for being. It does not explain, simply bringing as much glorious redness as it can muster to circumstances of the moment. We don't notice its flattened hair, pouchy eyes or abbreviated attention span. It may appear wearing house pants and pilly socks. No matter what, it is still red and it is here, at its heart always and only red. Why would we be different?
We, you and I, are pieces of holiness that come wrapped in the ordinary. Even when we can't claim to be fully robust with optimism, with enviable efficiency or even physical strength, we remain seers, questing souls, our hues authentically bright. Because we know it exists, hidden beauty is the source of our secret strength.
Each morning brings a new voyage, the destination always unknown. Our lives are packed full as vacation suitcases with the everyday, from which the chance for miracles, for wonders, always arises.
In some now-dim past as I began my first gratitude journal, I realized that "I'm still here" was a significant declaration, not some ho-hum, I've run out of things to say, default. It is not so much that peril just lurks, loiters, expecting our unwariness. It is more that the unforeseen, the unwelcome, finds us all. I celebrate surviving those encounters. Best not to take them at face value for frequently it is within them that we see the impossible manifest.
Whether I feel equal to the task or pitiful and outnumbered, life seems to expect me to show up every day. I suspect one of the attractions I feel for the color red is its boldness. Red does not cower or apologize for being. It does not explain, simply bringing as much glorious redness as it can muster to circumstances of the moment. We don't notice its flattened hair, pouchy eyes or abbreviated attention span. It may appear wearing house pants and pilly socks. No matter what, it is still red and it is here, at its heart always and only red. Why would we be different?
We, you and I, are pieces of holiness that come wrapped in the ordinary. Even when we can't claim to be fully robust with optimism, with enviable efficiency or even physical strength, we remain seers, questing souls, our hues authentically bright. Because we know it exists, hidden beauty is the source of our secret strength.
5 comments:
Twenty-seven years ago I started keeping a little notebook of gratitude which provided 'sweet' awareness of continued blessings. I had just read of Mother Teresa's crisis of faith where she said she "... still faithfully searched for God, still prayed, while wondering if there was anyone out there. Not a piece of God's candy for years. The wonder is in the waiting, which is not passive, but watchful: at its core is an invincible hope."
The waiting. The hope. Bits of candy along the way. Thrown out from a passing clown in a parade? I wonder if there is a way to encourage the candy-throwing. My concept of God is still not well-formed, but I am definitely on a path of discovery and candy-catching. Here are some of the entries:
May 18 - Thank you for the blue skirt, green pants, shorts, blouse. Such abundance, comfort (I can't imagine being comforted by green pants today).
May 19 - Thank you for guiding me to wonderful books.
May 20 - Thank you for the insight into the physical world I had today. Every action involving something material is symbolic. We live in the world. The earth makes us dirty. We sweat. When we bathe, we remove the things of the world. We are cleansed. I'm going to try to see the meaning daily of removing the stains of my life.
May 22 - Thank you for the Woman's Conference and especially the guided meditation. New ideas. Great possibilities. Choices. Adventures.
May 25 - Got shoes for all three children. Casually mentioned there should be a group discount and the salesman gave it to me. Thank you.
June 8 - Started my period. Thank you.
That was 1988. I am still trying to see and eat God's candy through gratitude. I am so grateful I have an income and excellent health and wonderful friends. There's so much more, I'll have to get another little notebook.
...and this:
If the only prayer you said was thank you, that would be enough. ― Meister Eckhart
Kass - Thank you for such generous, insightful sharing of your journey. Actually, today green pants sound rather pleasing. "Not a piece of God's candy for years..." The Mother Teresa quote speaks to me, I suspect to all of us in some fashion, either as believers or not. I am so touched by this, such specific abundance from you. And "thank you" is the only way I've thought of to acknowledge all the candy already caught and consumed. To become aware of benevolence (I was thinking of a post for today which would elaborate on some of it)...forgive me stumbling on thoughts and words as I absorb your gift. xo
Marylinn, I'm also grateful and overwhelmed by the gift of our mutual sharing.
Kass - A connection we might never have made before the internet. One of the wonders. xo
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