Together

I often – perhaps usually – see life as cramped and confined, as though I am a minuscule speck of matter trapped in a universe of countless other minuscule – and possibly dangerous – specks. I was reminded of this when we were walking alongside a field of clover this morning. I stopped for a moment to look closely at some of the separate clover plants,

and for a moment, they did seem small and separate and even – in a way – confined. I pictured them each trying their best to bravely keep their distance from other plants so they, by themselves, could grow as carefully and thoroughly as possible. I almost felt sorry for them as they struggled to maintain their safety and strength as separate clover plants. But then – I stood up and saw this scene, this very ‘big picture’ –

– the whole vast clover field under the endlessly expansive sky – and I immediately felt a feeling of reassurance and peacefulness. I realized that all the clover and the building and the sign and all the trees and all the clouds and all of the spreading sky was all together – not separate in any way, but whole, full, and undivided. The little clover plants were imbedded in an unbroken family of infinite proportions – and so am I, and so are all of us. I, and all clover plants and clouds and skies, are inseparable members of a universe that’s been flowing, as a family, forever. The universe changes, yes, but it cannot ever be hurt, and neither can its clover or its Hamilton Salsich.