I
love this Mary Oliver poem…
Every
day
I
see or hear
something
that
more or less
kills
me
with
delight,
that
leaves me
like
a needle
in
the haystack
of
light.
It
was what I was born for--
to
look, to listen,
to
lose myself
inside
this soft world--
to
instruct myself
over
and over
in
joy,
and
acclamation.
Nor
am I talking
about
the exceptional,
the
fearful, the dreadful,
the
very extravagant--
but
of the ordinary,
the
common, the very drab,
the
daily presentations.
Oh,
good scholar,
I
say to myself,
how
can you help
but
grow wise
with
such teachings
as
these--
the
untrimmable light
of
the world,
the
ocean's shine,
the
prayers that are made
out
of grass?
We
all need daily to be in the presence of stuff that ‘more or less kills us with
delight.’ I wake early to do this. Can’t seem to navigate life very well
without a daily dose of ‘daily presentations.’
Jesus
woke early too. He’d go up into the hills a good while before dawn to get his
daily dose of ‘untrimmable light.’ I understand the Dali Lama also wakes early.
Every day. Every day he spends his first 4 hours meditating. Otherwise, he
says, he doesn't have what it takes to get through the day wisely and
compassionately.
Prayer,
contemplation, meditation—at least the version of these that I understand—puts
us in a place of refuge and Presence. When we ‘take refuge’ in a place and way
of Presence (mmmmmmm, how to say this without it sounding pious, predictable,
stale, etc., etc., etc?)...
Good
stuff happens.
Taking
refuge in Presence is the magic that the old Alchemists were looking for. It’s
a place and process where iron turns to gold. Mary Oliver is most always
refreshed and inspired among ‘the ordinary, the common, the very drab.’ She
says she can’t help but ‘grow wise with such teachings as these.’
Don’t
we all want to say to the waiter, “I’ll have what she’s having!”
But
it’s not just in the common deep-down beauty of the natural world this kind of
alchemy happens. It also happens in ‘the fearful, the dreadful.’ I suspect it
was often this kind of thing that woke Jesus early and took him to quiet places
deep in Presence so he could have the fearful and the dreadful transformed in
him. We often meet him later in the day and see him working wisely and
compassionately with fearful and dreadful stuff.
We
can do it too. Really.
To humbly say ‘O not me, Lord’ is really a lame kind of
dodge.
This
beautiful and accessible refuge, these places of transformation are ours too.
It’s where in the tenderness and confidence of Presence we learn slowly again
and again and again that fear, uncertainty, anger, revulsion, doubt, and essentially
every other daunting thing look different—they become something different—within
this sacred container, this Refuge.
This is where we meet our fears on purpose. Hear them out. Put them in perspective
(read: Presence). And notice how they're not as daunting as before. Refuge is
where we welcome 'what makes us crazy' in a way that (slowly) 'makes us
wise.'
The
commitment and patience and courage it takes to do this also slowly
grows.
Lead
to gold. Stuck to moving. Anxious to trusting. Bored to engaged. Numb to
caring.
PS:
Nothing written in stone that Refuge is best early mornings. But it is usually
best at a time when our energy is good.
