Greatly ought we to rejoice that God dwells in our soul; and more greatly ought we to rejoice that our soul dwells in God. Our soul is created to be God’s dwelling place, and the dwelling place of our soul is God. —Julian of Norwich
We are in constant motion of in-flowing and out-flowing energy if we pay attention to that movement for even the shortest period of time. There is also stillness. It’s unlike any other sensation we have had, but you readily recognize a difference in vibration. It penetrates every aspect of your being.
The experience is so subtle that without focus, it is missed, but with focus you want more of it, which of course is a problem. Because it cannot be duplicated. Each moment is unique and any attempt to create an identical moment is interfering with Mystery; where the aim is to temporarily put a cap on our egos and ability to control a situation or person.
From my experience years of meditation and extensive quiet time in nature sets you up for this type of encounter. That’s exactly what it is an encounter, which has arrived because you are ready and open for such a phenomenon and William Wordsworth (1770-1860) put into words:
And so the deep enthusiastic joy, / The rapture of the hallelujah sent / From all that breathes and is.
But once introduced to that state, there is a yearning for other such joys and we go searching for it in things, clothing, adventures, and food which of course falls short of our expectations. And the truth is it can’t be found by anything bought with money, but only in the quiet, which cannot be reclaimed, but has to be realized in each singular moment of stillness whenever it is gifted to us.
These experiences are highlighted by words like holy, sacred, or miraculous which suggest something remote and far outside of the ordinary, but I’m beginning to think that is an illusion. We are surrounded by remarkable happenings all the time: in conversations, brief encounters with nature, kind words from a stranger, or an unexpected gift. We have merely lost our sensitivity to such simple pleasures. In our fast paced culture and racing along the accumulation tract we no longer pay attention to the joys right in front of us and which William Wordsworth acknowledged:
You air that serves me with breath to speak! / You objects that call from diffusion my meanings and give them shape! / You light that wraps me and all things in delicate equable showers! / You paths worn in the irregular hollows by the roadside! / I believe you are latent with unseen existences you are so dear to me.
Perhaps, Frances of Assisi was not so far off the mark when in “Canticle of the Sun," he declared the sun, fire, and wind his brothers and water and earth his sisters. All elements are in us and surround us; what a wonderful thought. How can we attune to such gifts as they appear all around us? You begin by paying attention to your rhythm, your dance.
I invite you to put yourself in the image above and consider the shapes you are making. Are you leaning in, are you following directly behind the person in front of you or slightly to the outside? Are your arms freely floating outward away from your body? Do you have more weight on one foot? Is your head gently resting on your shoulders, looking one way, then another or straight ahead? Is it mobile, free to float and be aware of the other beings in your dance? What are your movements telling you about the dance you are living?
After some reflection (if not before) maybe, you will exclaim with Robert Louis Stevenson (1850-1894:
The world is so full of a number of things, I’m sure we ought all to be as happy as kings.
1000 yeses