WORDS LIKE LIGHT
Sunday, August 1, 2021
For a large part of my life, I would probably not have considered trees to be wise, or summer clouds to be clever, or winds to be shrewd as they swing among the houses in neighborhoods. I usually thought of wisdom as residing only in the human brain, and that therefore only people could be truly wise – and relatively few people, actually. Over the last many years, though, I’ve slowly come to see that wisdom is far too large to be held within a small lump of flesh called a brain – that, in fact, its boundaries break out beyond the farthest stars. Only the universe itself is truly wise, and whatever acuteness any of us seem to have is shared with us by this generous, always sensible universe. In my best moments, when I can come in silence to right here and now, and simply listen, I sometimes feel understanding slowly descending on me from somewhere so far away it can’t be described. At those times, answers pass into me like easy winds, and light seems to be what everything, including me, is made of. I feel wise then, the way I feel warm when sunshine surrounds me. I feel informed, like I’ve been given a gift from far, far away, as if I ‘ve been blessed with the wisdom of trees and clouds and far-flung stars.
And here are some scenes from our morning walk along the Mystic River …