With each breath, life.
Stepping forward
Into the fresh, cool air.
That feeling in the air,
It’s all around.
Rock of ages,
For the ages,
From the ages.
Layer upon layer,
Lines of grandeur.
Moments of mist,
Moments of majesty.
Sounds of water flowing,
Then its rush within sight.
Rolling over, dripping down,
Passing through,
Gentle like the breeze.
Invigorating, enthralling,
Comforting, to the soul,
Soothing to one’s spirit.
“It is the spirit that gives life…” – Jn 6:63
There’s something about climbing a mountain, of any kind, that lends itself to leaning in. Stepping ahead, slowing down, gaining traction, sometimes even resting. Hints here and there—leading, reaching, stretching—all progress in this journey.
There’s something about climbing a mountain, of any kind, that lends itself to letting go. Noticing moments filled with movement; movement filled with moments. Some are silent and others not. Some are focused more than others. A mix of sorts, obstacles slowly falling away, leaving room for air as well as airing.
There’s something about climbing a mountain, of any kind, that lends itself to learning. Exploring ups and downs, reflecting on what’s over, up ahead, or coming around. Changing ever changing, discovering what’s important and tossing what is not.
Jesus took Peter, James, and his brother, John,
and led them up a high mountain by themselves.
And he was transfigured before them;
his face shone like the sun
and his clothes became white as light.
And behold, Moses and Elijah appeared to them,
conversing with him.
Then Peter said to Jesus in reply,
“Lord, it is good that we are here.
If you wish, I will make three tents here,
one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.”
While he was still speaking, behold,
a bright cloud cast a shadow over them,
then from the cloud came a voice that said,
“This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased;
listen to him.”
When the disciples heard this, they fell prostrate
and were very much afraid.
But Jesus came and touched them, saying,
“Rise, and do not be afraid.”
And when the disciples raised their eyes,
they saw no one else but Jesus alone.
As they were coming down from the mountain,
Jesus charged them,
“Do not tell the vision to anyone
until the Son of Man has been raised from the dead.” – Mt 17:1-9
In the course of a day,
One might experience
Many kinds of ground,
Here and there,
Or maybe none at all.
Yet, whatever it may be,
Peace and inner strength await,
While Guidance subtly leads the way,
Where many paths abound.
Willing accompanists through the hours,
Perhaps hidden, under cover,
But always working, nonetheless.
Never kicking back,
Or losing sight.
Whether to relax,
Or continue striving,
Never a question,
Or even a passing thought.
Constant presence, patient…
Never rushing through
On the way to something,
Somewhere or someone else.
Always within reach,
Or better yet, within.
Whether running ahead
Falling back,
Or not too far behind,
Keeping pace,
Or simply being still.
No matter how,
What, where, or when,
Everlasting Love,
Constant Source,
Holding all in deep affection.
Thus says the LORD:
Just as from the heavens
the rain and snow come down
and do not return there
till they have watered the earth,
making it fertile and fruitful,
giving seed to the one who sows
and bread to the one who eats,
so shall my word be
that goes forth from my mouth;
my word shall not return to me void,
but shall do my will,
achieving the end for which I sent it. – Isaiah 55:10-11
Looking out across the way, noticing the strokes with which nature paints the scene before my eyes, I am captivated. The variations of color and light both hold their own and come together. A symphony embracing one another, yet at the same time providing the contrast that makes it fully come alive. Ripples in the sky, and ripples down below. With all that is going on, it’s interesting how all these differences join to form a work of beauty, instead of tearing at each other, or falling all apart.
For in one Spirit we were all baptized into one body, whether Jews or Greeks, slaves or free persons, and we were all given to drink of one Spirit. – 1 Cor 12:13
On a breezy autumn day,
the sun shimmers across the water
and the clouds
steadily make their way
from one side of the sky to the other.
The trees, they stand their ground,
their leaves have yet to fall.
I guess it’s not their time.
Yet, ripples on the pond
and clouds up in the sky,
both quietly passing by.
Always in time.
Always in time.
The wind, it moves the clouds
and water all around,
and yes,
even those leaves clinging to trees.
Always in time.
Always in time.
Some willing more than others.
Taking direction,
or making a stand.
Always in time.
Always in time.
Likewise, the Spirit in its stirring,
its moving of hearts and souls,
here and there along the way.
Always in time.
Always in time.
Always in Time… May your mercy, Lord, be upon us; as we put our hope in you. – Psalm 33:22
John Muir shared the thought that in every walk with nature, one receives far more than one seeks. Pausing to look at some of the changing leaves and noticing the contrast between them and those already on the ground, I came across another scene. A chipmunk, also pausing, long enough to possibly be considered a companion in an otherwise seemingly empty stretch of woods. A brief, but amusing and uplifting experience, perhaps captured best, for both creatures on this day, in the words of another naturalist, Henry David Thoreau, who wrote, “I took a walk in the woods and came out taller than the trees.”
Reading chapter 22 in the Gospel according to Matthew, the section that contains verses 15-22 starts with, “Then the Pharisees went off and plotted…” The words and the image they conjure, are such a stark contrast to that of my experience in nature, earlier in the day. What a difference a spirit of inclusion, acceptance, respect, and mutual existence might have made back then. What a difference it might make now.
Nature is all around us, and we are part of it. Yet, all this time gone by, still, we fight it. All these years later, still, we resist joining together. Perhaps, one by one, we might learn to be companions to each other, and the plotting will end. Then, maybe… we might see, how foolish we have been.
If we surrendered to earth’s intelligence, we could rise up rooted like trees.
– Rainer Maria Rilke
The Pharisees went off
and plotted how they might entrap Jesus in speech.
They sent their disciples to him, with the Herodians, saying,
“Teacher, we know that you are a truthful man
and that you teach the way of God in accordance with the truth.
And you are not concerned with anyone’s opinion,
for you do not regard a person’s status.
Tell us, then, what is your opinion:
Is it lawful to pay the census tax to Caesar or not?”
Knowing their malice, Jesus said,
“Why are you testing me, you hypocrites?
Show me the coin that pays the census tax.”
Then they handed him the Roman coin.
He said to them, “Whose image is this and whose inscription?”
They replied, “Caesar’s.”
At that he said to them,
“Then repay to Caesar what belongs to Caesar
and to God what belongs to God.” – Matthew 22:15-22
Musical inspiration: The King of Love My Shepherd Is
Looking across the yard, the tree branches still snow clad from a recent storm seem livelier than in the weeks preceding. It is interesting what contrast can do, often bringing life to that which seems to be on the way to being mostly lifeless, if not already. Oftentimes, it is in or through differences, when one is able to hold them side by side, that strength is found; not only that, but also a common sense, pointing to the essence, or the heart of any matter.
Trees are made with branches, and leaves that come and go.
We are made, all of us, with body, heart, and soul.
Trees are made to stand, side-by-side, tall, proud, and free.
We are made to stand, side-by-side, tall, proud, and free.
Trees are made to gently bend or lean, but not break.
We are made to gently bend or lean, but not break.
Trees have roots, for bearing fruit, always in due time.
We have roots, for bearing fruit, always in due time.
Only, trees, though, they know how, to open, and let go.
Trust in the Lord…
“The maker of heaven and earth,
the seas and all that is in them,
Who keeps faith forever…” – Psalm 146:6
Sometimes, while thinking about or waiting and watching for one thing, another comes along unexpected. At other times, what may be considered routine and predictable… a sure thing does not occur. Traveling in a group, some headed into the forest, toward the mountain for hiking while others stayed, opting for a walk at a lower altitude instead.
Along the hike, there were trails, trees, and water. Along the walk, there were also trails (sidewalks), trees, and water. The wildlife heard and seen by both groups was very different though. While one might expect the woods and mountains to be the place for spotting animals, on this particular morning, the wildlife seemed to be with the walkers.
Despite this reversal, both groups returned enlivened and at peace. With a calm that only nature’s Source can bring forth. For as Simone Weil wrote, “To be rooted is perhaps the most important and least recognized need of the human soul.”
Let all the earth cry out to God with joy. – Psalm 66:1
As we walked along the cliff, the terrain shifted from paved pathways to ones constructed out of giant rocks along the shoreline. The further we walked, the numbers of those walking became less as the path became trickier to navigate with the level rocks becoming sparse. Taking heed of the signs to be cautious, we forged on, determined not only to get to the other side, but also to take time to enjoy the sites along the way.
Most striking on this particular day, were the tidal pools that we came across. The water seemed so crystal clear—transparent. At the same time, though, it was teeming with living organisms, some visible to the naked eye, some surely not.
Each pool seemed to contain a world of its own. As a child, I remember a field trip where we explored and studied tidal pools. It was fascinating to see various components of the entire ocean in one relatively small area. I remember a classmate spotting a tiny shrimp in one of the pools. It is amazing what one can see when going slower and looking around more carefully.
Surveying the tidal pools, as intact as they seem, they inevitably change with each tide. While they may resemble what was there from the previous tide, they are not the same. Yet, day in and day out, or tide in and tide out, each pool continues to hold its bounty—life, beauty, and all that is intriguing in various different shapes, colors, and forms—as sacred for as long as it remains, or until the tide reclaims it.
That is something to strive for… something to emulate.
“Father, they are your gift to me.
I wish that where I am they also may be with me,
that they may see my glory that you gave me,
because you loved me before the foundation of the world.
Righteous Father, the world also does not know you,
but I know you, and they know that you sent me.
I made known to them your name and I will make it known,
that the love with which you loved me
may be in them and I in them.” – John 17:24-26
As we entered the woods, we were drawn from one path to another. The hustle and bustle of the everyday was left behind, replaced with sounds of a different… simpler… more pure kind. The further we walked, the more deeply in touch we became with our surroundings.
With each step, we traveled closer to the center, quietly, gently becoming part of a different world. We were surrounded by life, even in that which seemed at first glance to be without it. Layers of decaying leaves, fallen branches, and tree trunks, all returning to the earth, carrying nutrients from the past through the present and into the future. A reminder that when we remain in union with Creation, when we live and breathe Truth, all is One; there is no difference between life and death.
Though we travel the world over to find the beautiful, we must carry it within us, or we find it not. – Ralph Waldo Emerson
HopeThatFloats 
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