Stay Close to What is Sacred

I picked up my copy of the book, Drinking From the River of Life, by Mark Nepo today.  His wise words always enlighten me and lift me up. I began paging through the book and came upon this, “By giving our full attention to what is before us, we can stay close to what is sacred.” 

My work as a photographer is a kind of meditation for me. When I have my camera in my hands and I’m down on my knees on the ground gazing at tiny flowers I may as well be kneeling in prayer. The way I see the flowers, frame the shot, and edit the photograph is a kind of honoring the sacred. What a joy to slow down and give my full attention to the beauty of the world.

Is your work also a meditation or an honoring of what is sacred?

UNDERSTANDING LEAVES

The leaves do what we can’t. 

They wait their whole lives.

At first they dream of air

and wait to slip from wood.

Then they dream of openness

and wait to stretch in light.

Then they dream of thirst

and wait to soften in the rain.

At last they dream of nothing

and simply unfurl. 

Photosynthesis is how this waiting

is described in the physical world. 

The mystery of waiting is what

turns light into food. 

To wait beyond what we think

we can bear is how things

within turn sweet.

     — Mark Nepo

This waiting time that we are in as the entire human world deals with COVID-19 is challenging for many of us. At a meeting I hosted online last weekend one of the participants suggested that what many of us are feeling right now and not knowing how to deal with is grief. I’ve been pondering that since Sunday and I think she’s right. Paired with the losses we’re all experiencing (even if it’s only a loss of freedom) and the fear of what the world will be like on the other side of this pandemic it’s no wonder that we are grieving.

A friend sent me links to two articles this morning that address grief. One of them is by the leader of an online community of childless, not by choice, women. Her article, titled Oppressed by advice… all over again addresses all of the mindless advice everyone is giving us on how to cope during these challenging times. The other was an article from Sun Magazine, The Geography of Sorrow by Francis Weller. I enjoyed both of these articles. Perhaps you will too.

I’m not going to tell you, “You’ve got this,” or other inane advice. But I hope that understanding that you are grieving may help you be kind and compassionate with yourself and others who may be suffering. I’ve said it many times, but it is worth saying again…

There is no one right way

And now to a less serious subject—the weather.

The weather this morning surprised me. Though snow flurries were forecast for last night I was relieved when I looked out the windows this morning and saw no snow. Then a little after 9:00 AM I looked out again and gasped. There was so much white in the air I could hardly see the pond. Now the snow has ended and in fact, has already melted completely. It’s good to be reminded that in Minnesota in April anything can happen. Weather is a leveler that shows that humans are NOT as in control as they think they are. This is good, I think, though difficult for those whose lives are turned upside down by weather events.

This post seems to be meandering in many different directions today and I’m letting it do so. Writing for me is often a stream of consciousness thing. I usually don’t plan ahead what I’m going to write but simply sit down and see what comes up. Some days, my well is dry and I have little to say. Other days are like today when I meander.

May you walk in beauty.

I made the flower photos in today’s post yesterday in my backyard, the pond photos this morning through my living room window.