Shining Spirit

But, who is my neighbor?

Next door?
Around the corner?
Schoolmates?
Co-workers?
Next town?
Another state?
A different country?
(Choose one of the following)

“Neighbor” is about geographic location: the guy next door
“Neighbor” is a relationship: with somebody I know
“Neighbor” is holding something in common: like life
“Neighbor” is not limited to humanity: how about
a tree or an antelope or the earth under all
that concrete pavement?
“Neighbor” is a cosmic idea: the cells in my
body and the planets in the universe,
and the person walking toward
you in the grocery store.

Oh, go ahead and choose more than one.  In fact,
choose them all.

You have a good day, neighbor!

May I feel the Breath of Life blowing
across the universe, spinning my
prayers into the farthest
corners of the sacred creation.
Like the wheel adorned with
words of blessing, may I turn
in the strong wind of the Spirit,
releasing showers of gifts upon
all who thirst for truth and
hunger for hope.

May the sky be filled with
offerings of healing and
wholeness and may they
rain down on this parched
planet.  Come, rise up Holy
Wind, fill the universes with
the whirring sounds of prayer
wheels singing to the stars.

When I turn out the light tonight and
snuggle into my bed, I will say to myself:
“Today I lived.”
I will not walk through another day
inattentive to invitations.

Every time I pass the little bookstore on
the boulevard I think:
Someday I want to go in and spend
time getting acquainted with the
lovely fragrance of books.
Someday is today.

My friend is recovering from serious
cardiac problems.  For the past
few days, I’ve had good intentions
about telephoning and letting
her know she is not forgotten.
Today is the day.

Before the sun disappears behind the
jagged mountains, as light fades and
the quiet of evening descends,
I will revisit the wonderful
adventures of the departing
day.  I will examine myself
against the backdrop of the
day’s experiences, and the
remarkable gift of living
these particular hours.
My last prayer before sleep
comes will be expressions of
gratitude for all the encounters
that enriched me and nourished
the self I think I know.

,

Sometimes it’s better not to know.
“…let me know how fleeting my life is.”
That’s the Psalmist’s request in Psalm 39.
Really?  You need a message from God?  Do you have a mirror
at home?  Look around at that circle of friends.  That’s a lot of
gray hair…or absence of.  I had a long look at my hand the
other day.  Looks a bit like the surface of the moon.  No, I
don’t need a revelation, just some reassurance.  And I find
it in the rosebud waiting to bloom.

I used to think of myself as invincible.  Then came vulnerable.
Sometime, when I wasn’t paying attention, the second half of the
game began, and I was mature.  That’s a kind word, isn’t it?
Mature is fine, but eventually it means that you know your
urologist by his first name.  Blooming is wonderful.  To bloom
for even a brief period of time is a mystery made possible by a
Mystery.  It’s only right and natural, though, that the petals
start to curl around the edges, then fall to the ground to
nourish the roots.  How else could the rosebud bloom?
My reassurance about the garden is in all those rosebuds
waiting their turns.

The explosion of their brilliance, far surpassing what we brought
to the garden, gives me practical hope.  You know them.  They
have good minds, good hearts and good souls.  They are just
over our shoulders, waiting.  And they are going to be beautiful.

Let’s just double-down and leave them something
to work with.

I was wandering around Sweetwater Wetlands when, through an
opening in the tall reeds, I saw this little guy taking a swimming
lesson and working on his paddling skills.  He was with Mom and
siblings, about six more, but he was off by himself and quite
unconcerned about a stranger on the bank with a
camera in his hand.  Click and I had him
in my Nikon.
Later in the day, at home in front of my computer while
transferring shots from the camera, I stopped on this
photo and reached for the Delete button.  Too messy,
I thought to myself.  Cluttered.  But for a moment, I
paused and looked with different eyes, eyes not
searching for perfection, but eyes that took in a
growing charm and tenderness.
This young fella is splashing around in the warm
sunshine, learning about life on the pond,
probably unaware of what I called “clutter”,
speckled with little blooms from nearby trees.
It’s not messy for him.  It’s great!
Life is fun.  So what’s the big deal
about perfection?
A pond strewn with little flowers on a
warm Spring morning.
I should have joined him.

May gentle drops of mercy fall on the
dry places of your soul today.

May you feel the tender embrace of goodness
wherever you go.

May peace flow into the depths of your being
and then out of you into the conflicts
and confusions you will encounter.

In spite of what you see or hear, may your
recurring thought be “it is good.”

And when night comes and all is quiet,
look back over the day and be
astonished at the Presence,
unknown in the moment,
that made the journey
with you.

I’m very thankful for all the blessings we receive

from life around us.  Everything calls us to learn.

Do you remember the last time you stood in amazement

at a beautiful display of nature, or admired the gaceful

movement of a running coyote, or witnessed the rare

opportunity to watch a hummingbird feed her young?

I hope it hasn’t been that long ago.

The Spirit is in the seeing.