Everyday Spirituality

I haven't done one of these in a very long time. They "come to me" when I have a chance to sit out with nature, and unfortunately that doesn't happen here in the middle of the city. For those of you looking for "anomalies" this day, this probably will not interest you. These are merely communing with nature moments. They are, to me, exactly the same thing at their base as some of the other sorts of contacts we sometimes have. But they are "everyday" [if we let them be] and so not very interesting to most. So, forewarned, this is a small moment of life.

It had snowed in Kalamazoo a couple of weeks ago and we'd had two subsequent days of hovering around freezing and thawing. The concrete was bare, but the grass was white. The snow crystals were diminished by the thawing and weren't showing any jewel-like light bursts this morning.

I finished morning prayers and decided to go for a walk around the neighborhood. Occasionally, little lightfields of diamonds would sparkle out as I passed, and they reminded me of the Light of the Creator "down under" the vernier of reality --- always present and powerful and beautiful. Up ahead on the other side of the street came an old man. He was walking his old black dog, as he did every day. We didn't even know one another's names, but there was a different knowing there. He stopped and said that he hadn't seen me for a while, and had missed me. Rather astonishing. I returned the sentiment...honestly. There IS connection between us ... again if we let there be.

Back at my home, I sat outside and watched the quiet neighborhood. And Nature began to speak. The chickadees flew directly overhead. Some diamonds manifested in the snow. A bluejay complained, and one of the smaller woodpeckers let out a beautiful call. Two geese flew towards the south. A lady cardinal peeped away, letting her boy know where she was.

Around the corner peeked an orange cat. It wasn't sure of me and looped away. There just where its head had been flared out a brilliant red-orange crystal light in the snow. The Sun and the ice then began having fun.

I heard a crunch, and saw that the last large icicle had detached from the roof, and lodged at a spectacular angle in the nearby tree. In the Sun's light it blazed like a light column, small internal Suns at intervals all down its length. I stared for awhile, and at the glittering jewel field below. It was cold, and it was time to go inside. A second crash. As I had arisen, and turned to go, the light baton had thrown itself to the ground. It had given its show just for me.

None of this can mean much to anyone unless they experience it themselves. But these communions ARE there to experience. Just be quiet... and let be.

It's wondrous out there.

Happy Spiritual Holidays.

And may the right sort of elves be with you.