I was able to go for a walk yesterday. While I was healing, summer has flooded in and swept the last traces of spring away.
I left the house listening to music, but eventually, I had to reach up and tug the earpieces free. The resonant sounds of symphony and soloist were cut off and I was dropped into the hush of the summer morning.
The road was hedged in by layers and layers of living green. Strands of light lay like fingers through the trees. It was as though the light were laying bare secrets, illuminating a sacred spot that in the day lay hidden in plain sight.
Everything softly breathed in the cool air. Everything was full of this expectancy, this certain wonder. I felt as though I had wandered into the heart of an ancient ritual, something that happened every year for as long as there was a world.
It was just life, reaching out, unfurling, growing, little tendrils of roots reaching down through the soil and thin leaves expanding out into the sun, everywhere. It's so still, so pervasive, and so sure of itself.
I read this on facebook:
I am so afraid to open my clenched fists!
Who will I be when I have nothing left to hold on to?
Who will I be when I stand before you with empty hands?
Please help me to gradually open my hands
... and to discover that I am not what I own,
but what you want to give me.
And what you want to give me is love,
unconditional, everlasting love.
-Fr Henri Nouwen
"Bless the Lord who is my rock...
He is my loving ally and my fortress,
my tower of safety, my deliverer.
He stands before me as a shield,
and I take refuge in Him."
-Psalm 144:1-2 NLT