In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. So starts the Book of John in the Bible. The Word has long been central to our concept of God. But perhaps the words we use to describe God say as much or more about us than they do about the Divine.
Have you ever had a lucid dream? That is, have you ever become aware of the fact that you were dreaming while still in the midst of the dream and then taken control of the dream and done what you wished with it?
Have you ever picked up a book, settled into your armchair to read with your favorite beverage in hand, and found yourself immersed in worlds you’d only half imagined?
Maybe that world was filled with sword fights, strange tea ceremonies, and the political intrigue of 17th century Japanese history as in James Clavell’s Shogun. Maybe that world was about ice axes, oxygen tanks, and true life and death decisions on Mount Everest as in Jon Krakauer’s Into Thin Air. Or perhaps you followed Sir Richard Burton, the British adventurer, as he sought the source of the Nile River, disguised himself to enter the forbidden city of Mecca, and discovered and translated the Kama Sutra and Arabian Nights.
How many moments are there in a minute? The question may sound funny but it cuts to the heart of a bigger question: What is the nature of time?
I can’t provide a definitive answer on the nature of time, but I can say that my concept of it has shifted appreciably in the last few days.
For years my perception of time has been one of going faster and faster and somehow getting less and less done. Does that sound familiar?
If your life is anything like mine, the pace seems to grow faster every year. We try to cram more activities into a day than ever before. And we compensate for our pell-mell willy-nilly rush with cell phones and PDA’s, fast food and microwave ovens, TIVO and voice mail. We also do more than one thing at a time, like talking on the phone while driving, or eating in front of the TV. We’re overscheduled and starved for time.
One day an otter was making his way up a stream when he chanced upon a very large fish who was too big for the otter to eat. The otter asked the fish for directions to a lake that fed the river. The fish didn’t know about the lake, having never visited it. But the two got to talking about their respective experiences in the world.
For his part the fish told the otter about the wonders of life on this stretch of the river. He described his swimming hole with its sandy bottom on one side and gravel bar on the other. He spoke of the rapids and the little eddies that formed as the current slipped and slowed around the large rocks. He told of the overhanging branches and the places where he used to hide and play as a minnow. He told of the best spot to find breakfast in the early morning when the grasshoppers slipped off the dew-soaked grass on the cut bank at the edge of the swimming hole.
The otter was curious about the fish’s world and asked many questions. It was a lively and engaging conversation, but it was repeatedly interrupted since the otter had to continually return to the surface to take a breath of air.
Grace is the Divine moving within you, through you, and around you.
Grace happens when you listen to your inner wisdom.
And even when you don’t.
Grace happens when you are kind to yourself.
And even when you aren’t.
Grace happens when you stop struggling, straining and worrying.
And even when you can’t.
Grace happens when you open your heart to others.
And even when you won’t.
Grace happens when you trust.
And even when you don’t.
Grace happens when you are happy and joyous.
And even when you aren’t.
Grace happens when you notice the beauty of life around you.
And even when you don’t.
Grace happens when you are overwhelmed.
And even when you aren’t.
Grace happens when you help others, no matter how inadequate you feel while doing so.
And it even happens when you don’t.
Grace happens when you let it.
And even when you won’t.
Grace is constant.
Even when you aren’t.
Have you ever experienced something in your life for which you were profoundly grateful?
I’ve experienced many such moments, but the ones that stand out the very most are when I held my new born children for the very first time. For instance, when my oldest daughter was born, the doctor handed her to me and I in turn placed her on my wife’s breast. Although I’ve held and later hugged her for untold hours since, that first moment remains a highlight of my life. As I accepted her into my arms for the very first time I felt like I had just received the greatest possible gift I could ever receive in my life. And indeed the only thing to rival it was when I held my second daughter for the first time.