“AND”

     I have decided that “and” is one of my favorite words. I guess I like this small, simple word because it suggests to me something about the immeasurable abundance of the universe. Indeed, a list of the universe’s components would go on and on and on and on and on forever, with never-ending “and”s! The universe contains clouds and suns and planets and stars and mountains and moons and blades of grass and specks of sand and sunsets and helping hands and big hearts and sparrows sitting on feeders outside our windows. What I like about this list is that all the components are equal in importance, all joined by the unbiased and equalizing word “and”. Sparrows and sunsets and big hearts and specks of sand – we need them all, absolutely and equally. Happiness and sorrow and success and adversity and smiles and tears – in some mysterious way I’m still trying to understand, they are all equally special and necessary and useful and instructive.

     I bow to “and”, again and again and again and again.

THE BEAUTY AND POWER OF INTERRUPTIONS

     This morning the pastor of the church we attend gave an inspiring sermon on the beauty and power of interruptions. She helped me see that my life, and all of life, is, surprisingly, a steady stream of interruptions, and that all of these interruptions are actually a part of the affirmative and healthful flow of The Universe through us. (She used the word “God”, but I sometimes use “The Universe”, to remind me that God is not a person.) An interruption is like The Universe knocking on yet another door to show us still more miracles, and perhaps the best way to respond is to smile and happily open the door. Curiously, the word “interruption” derives from the Latin “rumpere”, meaning “to break”, suggesting that an interruption could be seen as The Universe breaking through to show me something special, or even breaking me open like a bud breaks open and blossoms. Already today I have experienced hundreds of these moment by moment interruptions, small side streams that flowed into and refurbished my life. I hope I’ve smiled and welcomed them and wondered what they could show me.    

PERMITTING THE FLOW

     The word “permit” derives from two Latin words meaning “allowing to flow through”, which makes me realize that I should do a lot more permitting in my life. I especially need to permit thoughts and situations to stream through my life as effortlessly as they naturally want to do. Thoughts and situations, after all, are not stationary objects, but ever-moving events in the endless procession called life. They come to us, but with surprising speed they always go from us, passing away and usually leaving just a mist in the memory. My problem is that I often don’t permit my thoughts and situations to flow in their effortless, inexorable way. Strangely enough, I seem to set up barriers, so that thoughts and situations, especially the worrisome ones, are blocked from flowing through, and instead, stay solid and real in my life for far too long. I need to remember that everything passes away soon enough, including thoughts and situations. I should probably sit more often on the bank of the river of my life and give them permission to flow easily by.    

TREASURE AT HOME

      I was recalling today the old fairy tale about the guy who leaves home for many years to search for treasure, and finally returns home to find it buried in his own yard. We’ve all done our share of searching for the “treasure” called contentment, and, in the end, don’t we occasionally realize that the contentment we were seeking was somehow beside us all the while? I have a feeling that the present moment – any present moment – is a treasure box of contentment, but sadly, I rarely recognize it. Most moments in a day, I’m off on the great search for ease and satisfaction, perhaps in several lemon cookies, perhaps in purchases of things I don’t need, perhaps in daydreams about maybe’s and what if’s. Occasionally, though, I do return to the present moment, which is always right here for me, always loyal, always waiting with its treasures. Every moment is a chest of riches, and it’s not even buried, except to folks like me who have good eyes but sometimes can’t see.