"To me, every hour of the light and dark is a miracle." — Walt Whitman
WORDS LIKE LIGHT
Sunday, September 12, 2021
I am usually a doer and a thinker, but I realize more clearly now that I can also be an observer, and that observing can bring me more peace than I have ever known. As an observer, I can quietly watch, as if from a vast distance, whatever my thoughts are doing. I’ll feel like I’m sitting atop a sky-scraping mountain and simply witnessing these small, frisky thoughts as they fly around in their crazy ways. As an observer, I won’t judge or manipulate the thoughts; I’ll just watch and realize and learn – and what I will love learning most of all is that all these thoughts are absolutely harmless. They are not ‘things’ that can hurt me. They are infinitesimal, harmless wisps of energy with no more power than the smallest housefly, and the more carefully I observe them, the better I understand their innocuousness, and the more peaceful I feel.
Today I hope will be a day of observing. I want to spend hours and hours on the mountaintop inside me, just peacefully watching the wondrous – and harmless – workings of my thoughts. I’ll probably grow calmer by the minute.
WATCHING - AND LETTING GO
Jimmy Lee H., 38, Blessings, CT
He loves considering the look of skies,
the way they stay so soft and yet so vast.
He watches all the ways of bees and flies
as they enjoy their little lives and pass
his windows with the sounds of songs and hums.
Considering the work of winds is fun
for him, the way they sometimes sound like drums
and sometimes sing to comfort everyone.
When he sits back and sees the way things flow,
he marvels at each moment’s mysteries.
The whole of life appears to be aglow,
and all things work in partnership with ease.
This life, to him, is something to be loved,
not ruled, or fought, or made just right for him.
He loves to see himself be softly shoved
by life till glory fills him to the brim.
Just letting go is what he does for fun,
which makes life almost dazzle like the sun.
Today, I hope to be a beholder. The life I am part of is amazing in every way, and today I want to truly see it – to catch a good glimpse, each moment, of the grand mystery of this everyday existence I was given 79 years ago. I want to be a serious watcher today. When Delycia and I are riding our bikes on the Kingston rail trail, I want to spot and study things as I pedal along. I want to pay attention to the flourishing trees along the trail, to the remarkable mesh of shrubs and bushes, to the spread-out, always shifting sky. In a true and wonderful way, each moment today can be a time of meditation for me – a moment in which to carefully consider the gift I’ve been given of being alive and aware. Even a tree branch bending slightly can be seen for what it is – a miracle as marvelous as the rising of the sun. Today, I hope to be a serious and successful observer, a devoted student of the always astounding present moment.
WORDS THAT AWAKEN
June 20, 2021, 4:40 a.m.
My goal for today is to be totally attentive. The word derives from the Latin word for ‘stretch’, which reminds me that I will need to stretch – to reach out and expand beyond my self-centered likes and dislikes, so I can see – and pay close attention to – the majesty that will be all around me today. I want to pay a serious visit to each present moment. I want to take careful note of what’s happening – my fingers smoothly moving across the computer keyboard, the soapy water sliding with ease across plates in the sink, my shoes softly brushing the floors as I walk through the house. Today, I want to truly notice what’s happening – not just see it, but actually become totally aware of it – scrutinize it, inspect it, study it. One branch bending in a breeze today is worthy of my total attention, as is each word someone speaks, each flutter of light and shadow, each smile or frown on a face. I want to be a watchful friend today – someone who loves life and stays alert to its marvels. I want to be on guard, ready to greet the goodness that will be breaking forth on all sides all day.
June 20, 2021
It's just like you.
It stands where it's supposed to stand.
It sighs when things go wrong -
a wild wind that wasn't expected,
a thousand footprints of sparrows,
a shirt of blistering sunlight.
Just like you,
the little things are pleasing to grass -
a golden scarf of sunshine,
the adventures of a youthful breeze,
the music of shoes walking.
You learn lessons every day,
and so does the grass -
to grow when it can,
to relax and lean away
when a wind comes,
to share its life
with sticks and blossoms and castaway things.
There's silence in your life,
as in the grass's -
the peace of your pleasant thoughts,
the serenity of standing
with brother and sister grass blades
in the starlight.