In the Hands of God
Forgetting and Remembering
Dear Friend,
It’s an odd habit we’ve picked up.
Something that’s developed over vast swathes of time. Paying more attention to the thoughts that our minds produce than to the source of the thoughts.
Where do thoughts come from? Where does life come from?
Where I sit, I can hear birds singing in the foreground, a single car driving on a single lane, mid distance. The contact of the rubber on the road louder than the engine. Muted voices behind me in the house. A cockerel’s crow carried on the wind and the tippity tap of my fingers on the keyboard, even closer still the beating of my heart, the breath of life, this moment melting.
As ever it’s sound that brings me home to the present moment.
Vibration.
This word God. How allergic I was to it when it meant rules and restrictions. Guilt and shame. Confusing tales of cruelty and tests of loyalty.
What I was taught of God came from those without direct experience of that which they spoke.
From here I can see Mont Viso. I’m sitting straight opposite the pyramid shaped mountain. Just because I can name it does not mean I know it. Silent snow covered granite. In stillness I can experience it. Tune in.
We can also enjoy direct experience of the Divine.
In my mind now, I have no images of God.
Gone is the angry man with the beard and thunder bolts.
No gender either.
Perhaps light itself is a close approximation.
For Chiara it’s nature.
The difference between a living blade of grass and one that withers.
An atom on Mars. The centre of the earth. A wave of energy reflecting off a satellite. A voice.
When we slow down and listen, or look deeply the mystery of life dawns within us.
Those who teach of love. Through thought word and deed. Each one encourages us to be still. To withdraw our attention from the surface of the world and to dive within. Call it meditation or prayer or mindfulness or yoga, the words matter less than the experience.
Perhaps you find inner stillness in writing or running or crochet or paint.
We’ve been fooled.
By fools.
Awful events are unfolding across our world.
Fear and hatred are not the anti-dote.
Neither are we to stand aside and look.
Whatever faith moves in us is ours to do.
That may be simply to recommit each day to non judgement of ourselves, our family and neighbours. Maybe those we pass on the street. Perhaps making eye contact at the checkout.
Silently wishing passers by peace, love and prosperity.
Imperfectly.
If you’re making loving kindness a habit you’ll know how much focus it takes.
Such a simple practice. Counter intuitive to the false self.
The hardest part is to include everyone, no matter where they are in their personal evolution. No matter how irritating or appalling their actions.
However bad their driving or diplomacy.
It’s a different order of love.
Transcends difference.
Is forgotten then remembered.
A flame.
That consumes the world.
Making it new again.
Reveals our wholeness.
In time.
The stillness of heaven covering the earth.
Soothing her fever.
In peace.
Till Tomorrow
Love
Mikey