Our local library is a community treasure. Out here in the eastern most ruralness of our county, it is a hub of activity providing a gathering place for readers, researchers, students, artists, knitters, poets, singers and dancers, exercise classes, political meets . . . . you name it and the library will likely provide space for it. We are all known by our first names and we will probably greet a neighbor or two each time we come to check out or return an item. Lately, I’ve been watching a lot of movies from the vast collection housed county-wide at one branch or another, linked by internet access and a request and hold system. In the last week or two I’ve watched The Descendants, Barney’s Version and Hope Springs; all three suggested by friends who thought I would enjoy them.
I did enjoy them and found, though the stories differed, the theme of each movie was the same as the others. If you have seen these three, you may – or not – agree. Maybe it’s just my quirky sense of connecting the dots and making meaning of things, that interjects itself into most of what I see or hear or do. Anyway, all three of those movies appear to me to be about our need to be touched. To be touched at our deepest core by another. To be seen and heard no matter what our outer self may be demonstrating. No matter what our history may have contributed to creating, that looks like our lives.
In a tiny volume, “Stillness Speaks,” Eckhart Tolle writes that true listening goes beyond mere auditory perception. In true listening there is alert attention, a sense of presence, in which words are being received but are secondary. They may be meaningful or they may make no sense at all. Much more important than the words we listen to is the act of listening itself. That space of true listening is one in which we meet another without separating barriers caused by our conceptual thinking. Here the other person is no longer “other.” Here, in this space we are joined into one awareness, one consciousness.
Perhaps you have experienced this consciousness. It isn’t a permanent state. But once we have experienced it, once we have abandoned our own limitations – even for an instant – we have merged with the divine. It happens when we are truly present to what is, not consumed and distracted by what we wish it to be. Sometimes it happens more easily in nature, in the presence of inspiring art or when we hear unforgettable music. In our human encounters, when we see another – or when we are seen – in this way, the love between us is contagious. It is unstoppable. It ignites an unquenchable fire that transcends time and space, that transforms the worlds within and the world without. It is a holy instant.
I wish for you and for myself many “flares” of holy instants. Can you imagine 7 billion flashes of Light connected across our planet, unlimited, uncensored, spontaneously and eternally fulfilling Divine Order. Could the darkness survive? The Light would bestow upon us the gift of acknowledgment, of belonging, of being seen and heard as Love itself.
postscript: I sit writing in a comfy chair opposite a sliding glass door, looking out across two greening pastures. A small stream that originates in the hills to the east separates the pastures and flows along into the south fork of the Nooksack River. To the south, beyond the furthest pasture, a tangle of wild woods takes over and reclaims the land. Just as I finished writing these reflections and poem, the lower layer of drifting gray clouds gave way to a brighter, higher shape of a masculine looking face, angular and strong. This face softened into the curves and smile of a feminine face. A holy instant happened for me. . . .
YWHW, the male figure of god, the Creator
Sophia, the female essence of god, known as the Wisdom
together in one seamless, formless Being,
as ever it has been and shall be forever
* * * * * * * * *
I did enjoy them and found, though the stories differed, the theme of each movie was the same as the others. If you have seen these three, you may – or not – agree. Maybe it’s just my quirky sense of connecting the dots and making meaning of things, that interjects itself into most of what I see or hear or do. Anyway, all three of those movies appear to me to be about our need to be touched. To be touched at our deepest core by another. To be seen and heard no matter what our outer self may be demonstrating. No matter what our history may have contributed to creating, that looks like our lives.
In a tiny volume, “Stillness Speaks,” Eckhart Tolle writes that true listening goes beyond mere auditory perception. In true listening there is alert attention, a sense of presence, in which words are being received but are secondary. They may be meaningful or they may make no sense at all. Much more important than the words we listen to is the act of listening itself. That space of true listening is one in which we meet another without separating barriers caused by our conceptual thinking. Here the other person is no longer “other.” Here, in this space we are joined into one awareness, one consciousness.
Perhaps you have experienced this consciousness. It isn’t a permanent state. But once we have experienced it, once we have abandoned our own limitations – even for an instant – we have merged with the divine. It happens when we are truly present to what is, not consumed and distracted by what we wish it to be. Sometimes it happens more easily in nature, in the presence of inspiring art or when we hear unforgettable music. In our human encounters, when we see another – or when we are seen – in this way, the love between us is contagious. It is unstoppable. It ignites an unquenchable fire that transcends time and space, that transforms the worlds within and the world without. It is a holy instant.
I wish for you and for myself many “flares” of holy instants. Can you imagine 7 billion flashes of Light connected across our planet, unlimited, uncensored, spontaneously and eternally fulfilling Divine Order. Could the darkness survive? The Light would bestow upon us the gift of acknowledgment, of belonging, of being seen and heard as Love itself.
postscript: I sit writing in a comfy chair opposite a sliding glass door, looking out across two greening pastures. A small stream that originates in the hills to the east separates the pastures and flows along into the south fork of the Nooksack River. To the south, beyond the furthest pasture, a tangle of wild woods takes over and reclaims the land. Just as I finished writing these reflections and poem, the lower layer of drifting gray clouds gave way to a brighter, higher shape of a masculine looking face, angular and strong. This face softened into the curves and smile of a feminine face. A holy instant happened for me. . . .
YWHW, the male figure of god, the Creator
Sophia, the female essence of god, known as the Wisdom
together in one seamless, formless Being,
as ever it has been and shall be forever
* * * * * * * * *
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