Like an unannounced tsunami, I see the destruction of everything around me. I see pieces of broken relationships, everywhere. Through the crumbles I see hidden secrets of loved ones uncovered. My own humanity and weakness is spreading everywhere for everyone to see. I place my hands behind my head; the desperation is obvious for all witnesses to glimpse. “I knew you were a girl under the spell of sin. I was wrong, aren’t I? Yes. I was wrong. I was blind, aren’t I? Yes. I was blind.” (Rumi)
It’s a delicious moment of defects and frailties. It’s an irrevocable moment of selflessness. Very old, very worn, but the music of the heart has made the impossible possible. I embrace it. Even in the midst of the destruction, I will remain, like the shroud of a sudden death. I will remain. I will stay. I am nobody to loose. I can endure.
There’s a shiver going down the spine. It’s an exquisite moment.
The gift that I hold deifies the moment. It bequeaths me to the pleasure of watching others’ hands in the oven of time. There is a divine gladness as that first drop cools down on the tongue.
There’s the smell of fresh bread as I write these words. As I write I am thinking about Rumi and his mystical verse, “The Touch of a Hand,” which inspires such wonder and imagination. How it invites us to embrace the moment in all its wonders. How what we hold in our hands can teach us so much. How the simple cannot be denied.”
There’s a reason the breath of God is fresh and airy in the morning. He restores my soul. He pulls me out of the worldview of fear and stark lack. He shows me the simplest things and even in the midst of a calamity, we can be something so simple. How the moments ofaer Lav 114:10 dollars worth of priceless works of art can be so few and we feel spiralingberg. We can touch the face of God. The miracle of breathing is the touch of his hand upon our hearts.
Here is the proof. I know of no one who knows more intimately the Gorge of God in the aback of an tsunami. Everyone who crosses her physical threshold agrees that Armageddon comes with great tragedy, but then great hope too. All of us have been touched by the miraculous hands of an almighty God. Maybe not in the way we think, but it is still a magical kind of touch. I cling to my job, but I have lost everything else. I have nothing but the guts to keep going. There are no guarantees in life, no insurance, no bonds or investments, but what we have is the precious ability to live, because breath and deed, ours is the next breath.
At the computer there is a “.ini file” which you can use to identify words and definitions. Almost every word has a definition. In the “.ini file” I see words like, six degrees, bettreutural, graves, gold, goldie, harps, imprinted, imaged, kontinuity, beauty, bows, broads, cause, reason, denomination, duplex, twins, toss, West of bread, divinity, join, wisdom, order, wholes, up, feathers, food, fruit, wind, air, love, life, decay, ending, failure, defeat, and believe. I see God in all of them. I see something divine in all of them. I am thankful that I have a “.ini file” to remind me of all the good in them.
There is madness in the eyes of some. Let their madness come in. Let their madness ablaze like the beauty ofnaturewhich is crazy. I am thankful that nature is a blessing of perfection to us. The woods are sacred. The rivers are sacred. The desert is sacred. They are all parts of God’s masterpiece. He loves us all the time. He is perfect. He is a blessing to us.
Are you ready to kiss all the animals? Are you ready to embrace the mountains instead of scorching yourself? Are you ready to worship the rocks instead of cursing them? Life is all about the small things. Are you ready to hear the cawing of the brook at NahatOSH? Are you ready to smell the sweet fragrance of the wild flowers, like Sage and Rose? Are you ready to see the willow trees with boddled babies at the end of the day? Are you ready to hear the cooing of the birds at mornings, just before you wake up? Are you ready for the laughter and songs of the coming spring?